Where Dead Men Walk (SYOC Closed)
by Lazersword88
Summary: A sleepy college town is enveloped in chaos after an underground deal gone wrong leads to millions in dirty money ending up in the wrong hands. As a result, a young woman with debt to pay to a church obsessed with cheating death is forced to navigate a seedy underworld where no one can be trusted. Will she be able to pay her debt or will the town be consumed by violence first?
1. Chapter 1: Exchange

Author's Note: Hi everyone, Lazersword88 here. So back in 2016 I was trying to finish up a story called Dead Delinquents. I wanted to get it done, but life has a funny way of getting in the way sometimes. First I graduated from my undergrad. Then I went back to school full time at night to get my masters degree while also working part time. And then I started working full time and the next two years flew by. All the while I was juggling my passion for tennis and hanging with a new group of friends. Even though I occasionally revisited this sub-genre and submitted a couple of characters, I lacked the time or motivation to pen my own story again. I was inspired to attempt a comeback by LeTeiiEscribe and his story Persisting in the Dead. LeTeii has been to torchbearer keeping the HOTD SYOC genre alive after we lost a few promising authors to other sub-genres, so kudos to him for keeping this small sliver of FanFiction that I care for dearly alive. If you are interested in submitting a character for this story, you can find the application on my profile (since you can't copy it straight from the story anymore). I would recommend you read this first chapter before you apply so that you can get a feel for this story's tone and characters. Without further ado, here is the first chapter of Where Dead Men Walk.

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It was a blustery fall night like any other in the suburban college town of Dale, the raucous sound of frat house parties and general revelry common on weekends filling the air. In contrast to the festivities around her, a young woman in a gray hoodie and sweatpants crept through the narrow alleys between the apartments and businesses of the college town's main street. As much as she would rather be partying with her fellow students, or doing anything else for that matter, the girl had a life or death job to do.

Sneaking a peak behind each corner as she traversed the gravely back alleys, the girl ignored the confused and mildly perverted gazes of intoxicated local vagrants as she hastily stepped over and around their sprawled out frames. Nearly at her destination, she peeked her head slowly around a corner and quickly withdrew it when she saw a club bouncer staring in her general direction. Crouched prone around the corner, the girl removed a slim phone from her hoodie's pocket and quietly tapped across the screen to send a text. This bouncer could be a problem if she could not sneak by him. Peering back around the corner of the brick building, she saw that his back was finally turned. The door that she needed to reach was towards the bouncer with no obvious objects to hide behind, making retreat the only option should she be spotted. Seeing the bouncer staring intently at someone on the street ahead of her, the girl decided to make her move. The girl was smaller in stature, quick on her feet and used to sneaking around, so she liked her odds. None of this would matter if her brain dead 'teammates' didn't open the locked back door to the club when she gently knocked. She could trust those losers about as far as she could throw them, but she had to work with them to get what she needed.

The young woman removed her heels and scampered barefoot towards the door, her eyes trained on bouncer in case she needed to turn tail. It wasn't until she reached the door that she realized that she was close enough to the still oblivious bouncer to smell his overpowering cologne. How would she knock loud enough for her companions to hear her, but also not be heard by the bouncer? The girl started with quiet knocks with long pauses in between, but no one opened the door. She knocked a little harder as sweat started to trickle slowly down her temples. Any louder and the bouncer would surely hear her.

She had to think fast and pray that her comrades were actually successful in making it into the club themselves. She silently slid her sweatshirt and sweatpants off her lithe frame, revealing a burgundy red strapless dress. Ensuring that the bouncer still hadn't paid her any mind, she slipped on her heels and pulled her smokes from her hoodie pocket. Praying that she could make this look believable, she knocked on the door much louder this time.

As the club door swung violently open, the bouncers gaze turned to the source of the commotion. As if an actor taking a que to enter the stage, the girl feigned that she was the one who opened the door. Quickly lighting the cigarette she had been clutching between her fingers, the girl took a long drag of smoke as the bouncer stepped towards her.

"Excuse me miss, this isn't a smoking area" the bouncer bemoaned. "You shouldn't even be back here".

"Oh, I'm so sorry" the girl acted, putting on her best ditsy impression as she noticed the bouncer eyeing her up. "Please don't kick me out. It was a mistake, honest!"

A sympathetic look crossed the bouncers pronounced facial features as a blush came to his face. "Eh, don't worry about it" he stammered. "Enjoy the rest of your night miss".

The girl waved vigorously at the bouncer as she stepped through the door and shut it, partially still acting and partially extremely relieved that he had bought her rouse. As she stepped into the noisy club, her wrist was grabbed tightly by one of the two hooded men who had let her into the club.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing Brenya?" a gruff man with dead looking brown eyes interrogated. "If you messed that up, all three of us could have been caught!"

"What are you talking about?" Brenya gawked as she snatched her wrist back from out of his grasp and took another drag from the cigarette. "Everything worked out fine, didn't it? Maybe you two could have stopped jerking each other off for five seconds and actually listened to me knocking on the door?"

"Both of you, please calm yourselves" the second of the two grunts urged, holding a large case by his side. "What's important is that everything is still going according to plan. The transaction should be taking place in the next twenty minutes. You remember what you are supposed to do, right Brenya?"

"I'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious around the club while you two complete the deal" Brenya hummed, somewhat thankful that the dark shadows on the corner of the dance floor hid her rolling her eyes. "I better get my end of the bargain".

"Have faith in Father Roland" the more intelligent of the two faithful droned. "Your brother will be the first to receive our divine salvation".

Brenya hated talking with these sheep almost as much as she hated working with them, but she had no choice. She had to fix the mistakes that she had made.

"Don't get any funny ideas, tramp" the more vulgar of the two men growled as he leaned so close into Brenya's face that she could smell what he'd eaten for dinner that evening. "If you sell us out or make a move for the money, I'll kill you and your precious brother myself".

"There's no need for those kind of threats Carl" the other hooded figure firmly stated. "She knows what's at stake. We need to split up before we draw any more attention to ourselves".

With that the two men in gray hoodies walked into the crowd, leaving Brenya to her own devices again. Taking one last drag from her cigarette before putting it out, Brenya realized she needed to do something about her excess clothes. The girl left her sweat clothes in the corner of the room and pushed her way into the mosh pit at the center of the club's dance floor. Despite not quite being of legal age to drink, this wasn't Brenya's first rodeo so to speak. Brenya found it difficult to push through the crowd with her slim 5'1" frame, her moderately sized bust and shoulder length strands of jet black hair rubbing against other moshers as she pushed her way through. Her eyes darted from side to side, eyeing those around her in the technicolored haze while moving her body rhythmically to the DJ's hip hop dance track. To her right she spotted two men with baggy clothing that did little to obstruct the outline of the brass knuckles gripped in their hands. How had they gotten those through the security pat down and the metal detector at the front? The two men seemed distracted by the swaying women around them, so Brenya decided to leave them be for now. They might be local toughs, but she didn't think that they were the ones that she had to keep an eye out for.

Brenya continued to push to the other side of the dance floor, the aroma of sweat and alcohol pungent in the air. As Brenya bumped into a sloshed looking woman, she stripped her of red solo cup containing some kind of mixed drink concoction. In an attempt to both cool her nerves and act like she belonged, Brenya quickly went bottoms up and chugged down the mystery drink. The sweetness of the drink nearly masked the pure hand sanitizer flavor of the strong alcohol it was mixed with. Tossing the cup to the ground in mild disgust, Brenya takes a moment to observe the men and women grinding in the center of the tangle of human bodies and limbs that threatened to envelope her.

From across the dance floor, Brenya was finally able to find the men she was on look out for. The first was a man of Russian descent in a biker vest and the second was of Latin American origin wearing a sleeveless blue jean vest adorned with an assortment of metal chains. Brenya's sharp eyes caught sight of the handguns shoved into the back of each man's waistline. A smile came to the pale skinned girl's face as she saw the briefcase that the Russian man carried in his left hand. Making sure to keep a safe distance and feign dancing among the local youths, Brenya tailed behind the two men and carefully observed their every movement and errant glance. People might be surprised with how many truths can be revealed just by their simplest facial expressions.

As the two men took seats at the bar stools of a circular bar near a corner of the large room, Brenya took a seat nearly on the other side of the bar. Her view of the duo was good enough to lip read anything they said to each other, but far away enough to not arouse suspicion. While concerning, the fact that the two men from the local cartel were packing heat was not unexpected. They would be wise to make sure that they were prepared for a potential double cross by their buyer. What Brenya hoped to ensure before the exchange was whether or not these men came alone.

The smooth glide of a full glass across the bar table pulled Brenya from her thoughts as a drink stopped a few inches from her folded arms. Brenya looked in the direction the drink had slid from, but did not get any eye contact from anyone else sitting bar side. It was only after the bartender sauntered over to her that she knew he was the one who had slid her the concoction.

"A Moscow Mule for the dignified Russian lady" the bartender cooed in a deep baritone.

"But I didn't order this" Brenya replied, smiling slightly in hopes that he wouldn't notice her confusion or slight apprehension.

"It's on the house" the peculiar barkeep answered with a small chuckle.

Brenya indulged the barkeep and took a small sip of her free drink. She wondered if he knew that she was under the legal drinking age. Brenya took a moment to observe this odd character, who was definitely not a student at the local university like her. The man had dark olive skin and curly dark brown hair that had flecks of grey along the sideburns. The man had a well defined jawline and slight wrinkles on his forehead that made Brenya guess that he was in his late twenties at the youngest. The man looked odd in his standard barkeep uniform due to his chiseled musculature that could be seen beneath his clothes. Both his height and muscular difference made this man appear to dwarf the diminutive Brenya to the absurd degree usually reserved for political cartoons about an underdog. This man's most striking feature by far was his bushy mustache that made the man look more wizened then he might actually be.

"Well, that's awful nice of you" Brenya smirked. "Just don't go expecting any favors from me".

"I ain't trying at anything" the man backpedaled, waving his hands in circles cartoonishly. "You just looked a little lost in thought, so I thought you'd need something to take the edge off".

"Eh, it's just been one of those weeks" Brenya embellished, sneaking another peek at the two men across the bar that she prayed the bartender wouldn't pick up on. "It's kill or be killed at my job".

"I know that feeling" the barkeep replied, letting out a somewhat forced laugh. "I'm surprised the boys aren't all over you. Almost everything is perfect about you".

Brenya subconsciously cringed at the comment after she saw him staring at her nose and instinctively covered part of her face with her left hand. Her nose had long been a sore topic for her. The orphanage she grew up in never had the money to treat the illness that deformed it. Even after her foster parents paid for plastic surgery, her face always seemed a little off due to her deformed snout.

While briefly in her thoughts, Brenya had failed to notice that her marks had gotten up from the bar and were on the move again. Panicking internally for a moment but soon relocating them, Brenya hastily swallowed the rest of her drink and slid the glass back to the confused looking bartender.

"Next time, choose a more flattering compliment" Brenya sneered as she walked away from the bar without making eye contact with the barkeep.

"Noted" the barkeep replied mostly just to himself, just starting to try to rationalize the girl's odd behavior.

The two men stopped in front of the VIP section of the club and spoke in hushed tones to one of the club's employees. Brenya danced with a group of strangers on the periphery of the mass of people on the dance floor and well within sight of what the cartel goons were up to. She could feel the combination of the two beverages she had drank mildly dull her reflexes, but pushed though the feeling as she danced on. While Brenya couldn't follow the two men into the VIP section thanks to the employee standing at the entrance, she could make sure no one else suspicious entered after them. While her inability to directly interact with the exchange frustrated her somewhat, Brenya was more than willing to do whatever it took to see this job through.

After several minutes of dancing, two familiar faces danced their way up to Brenya. Other students and young adults dancing looked at the two men in hoodies with incredulous looks before vacating to other parts of the dance floor. Even if the two men were not in hoodies and sweatpants, they just weren't able to naturally blend into a party crowd the way that Brenya was.

"Change of plans" the more patient of the two men yelled, trying in vain to talk over the sound of the thundering dance floor base. "Carl lost our VIP passes".

"Are you kidding me?!" Brenya exclaimed as she face-palmed. "Why did you let him keep both of the passes Steve?"

"Someone who is so fair-weather about their faith doesn't deserve those answers, scum" Carl barked at an uncaring Brenya.

"Shut up Carl!" Steve retorted, causing Carl to snarl at him like any other well adjusted adult. "Brenya's done great so far".

"The Father will be the judge of that after we've retrieved the goods" Carl snapped before turning to Brenya. "Have you seen anyone who's looked suspicious?"

"There are a few armed thugs on the dance floor, but they don't seem to be cartel affiliated " Brenya explained. "The two cartel men I tailed both have concealed handguns, but I think they're alone".

"We're ready if push comes to shove" Steve grinned, gripping the revolver in his pocket to ensure he still had it. "Our biggest concern should be finding a way for us to sneak into the VIP section".

"Maybe our little harlot can ask the guard to sleep with her" Carl joked brutishly.

"I think that's the first good idea I've ever heard you have, you neanderthal" Brenya giggled, a look of pure mischief in her eyes as the two men next to her stated in shock.

Brenya left the two men without another word. It would be up to them to do their part after she had done hers. While she walked towards the VIP entrance, she ruffled her straight black hair until it was messy and pulled the top of her dress down slightly to expose a bit more of her extremely modest bust. As she walked over to the employee at the entrance, she saw the young man shiver as they made eye contact. He had a speckled neck beard and a somewhat out of shape physique, but had a cute face.

"Thi...this section is for VIPs only miss" the young man stammered as Brenya attempted her best lustful expression.

"I'm not here for the VIPs" Brenya lulled as she grabbed the man's hand, interlacing their fingers. "I'm here just for you".

"But I'm still working for another 30 minutes…" the employee muttered as Brenya brought the man close and pressed herself against him.

"I don't want to wait another 30 minutes" Brenya whispered into the man's ear before giving it a quick lick. "Nobody is going to find out. Take me back to one of the empty VIP lounges".

The man nervously looked from side to side to make sure that no other employees were within view before turning back to Brenya with a bright red blush strewn across his features.

"Follow me…" he mouthed, practically dragging Brenya behind him as they stealthily made their way towards one of the enclosed VIP lounges.

The young man pulled Brenya into one of the empty rooms and hastily closed the door. Brenya didn't want to get this man fired, nor did she want to engage in anything too serious with him. As Brenya eyed him over, she had to acknowledge to herself that he was pretty cute in a way. She happened to be a bit of a sapiosexual and he looked like he was smarter than the meatheads she often found herself accompanied by over the last few months of work for the Church of One Blood. The young club employee sat an arms length away from Brenya on the black leather couch, unsure of how to proceed as the gravity of what he'd done began to sink in.

"So… w...wha...what do you wa...wanna do?" he asked nervously, any chance of cooling his nerves having long since past.

"Let's start slow" Brenya whispered with a knowing smile smile as she moved to sit on the mans lap and ran a few fingers through his sandy blond hair.

As Brenya stared into the young man's eyes, she found herself envying the innocence she could read in his expression. It was the kind of innocence that she wished she hadn't lost so long ago, but that was in the past. She found it somewhat amusing that a boy like this would work in a nightclub of all places. Life was full of small little ironies like this. While she kept the real purpose of this diversion in the back of her mind, her conscience at least wanted to make this worthwhile for him. What harm would a little heavy petting do? Brenya pulled the young man into a firm hug and pressed her lips softly against his, eliciting a surprised yelp from the young man as he grasped her in his arms in return. She dominated the exchange, molding him like soft putty in her hands. A low moan escaped his lips as he felt her tongue explore his mouth. Brenya eased the young man onto his back as she continued to lay on top of him…

A loud crack erupted from a nearby room without warning. Brenya could hear the music in the main room stop and the low murmur of confused patrons back on the dance floor. A second later, multiple sharp metallic sound resounded through the narrow corridors of the building. Those had to be gunshots.

"Oh no…" Brenya muttered, her heart sinking into her stomach.

Panic erupted out on the dance floor as men and women screamed, trampling over one another as they push towards the exits of the building. Moving to the door of the lounge and slowly peeking through a crack in the door, Brenya could see others who were in the VIP lounges sprint towards an emergency exit at the end of the hall in various states of undress. Brenya signaled for her frightened companion to slowly tiptoe to the doorway, trying to see if the coast was clear for him to make a break for it. As he approached, the gunshots started to ring out from further down the hallway. Brenya grabbed the frightened man and put a hand over his mouth to prevent him from making a noise as she did her best to steady her own nerves.

Brenya's mind worked at three thousand miles a minute. What happened to cause this deal to become violent? Were her two accomplices alive? If not, did those cartel members know about her or not? Was it worth it for her to try to make a play for the goods? Would Father Roland punish her or her brother if she didn't?

As Brenya was thinking, the sporadic gunfire ceased and a lone set of footsteps could be heard slowly limping back towards the now completely vacated dance floor. With so many people fleeing from the scene, the police had undoubtedly been called. If she was going to make a play at the goods or recovering the church's money, she had to do it now. Who knows if she would ever get another chance at this again!

"I think the shooter is gone" Brenya whispered quietly as she released the young man's mouth. "Get to the exit and get the hell out of here".

"Shouldn't you be following me?" the man asked as Brenya realized that this was a fair point.

"We'll have a better chance of lying low if we split up" Brenya improvised, attempting to come up with something believable that would not arouse suspicion from her companion.

The larger man slowly crept out of the room before charging down the hallway towards the emergency exit. Once she heard the exit door open and then click shut, Brenya slowly crept out of the lounge. Bullet cases were strewn across the narrow highway and the dim lights illuminated parts of the corridor that were soaked in blood. She had to hold back a gag as her stomach rolled at the sight of such carnage. The bodies of a naked club patron and a waitress employed by the club laid motionless and bloodied after being caught in the crossfire. As Brenya crept towards the room where she heard the gunfire originate from, she stepped over the cartel member with the jeans jacket. His head was slowly seeping blood from a hole near the top of his cranium and his chest had enough holes in it to be mistaken for Swiss cheese. Carl's body lay a few yards down the hallway and was as bullet ridden as the thug she just stepped over. It wouldn't have surprised Brenya at all if he was the one who instigated this firefight. Why on earth did Father Roland trust a man like him?

That left two men unaccounted for, assuming that Brenya was right about the cartel members arriving alone. Finding the lounge were the violence began wasn't difficult due to the steady trickle of blood that ran under the partially closed door of the room. Gripping the door handle and slowly opening the door, Brenya kept a low profile in case anyone was left alive in the room. As it turns out, her concern was all for naught. A figure with its head completely blown off lay slack across a chair in front of a wooden table. The only thing keeping the body from tumbling completely to the floor was the butterfly knife that had been stabbed completely through the corpse's hand and kept it stapled to the table underneath. Given the color of the body's outfit that was not completely saturated with blood, this corpse was Steve. Seeing his body caused Brenya to stumble to her knees and vomit the contents of her stomach onto the floor in the corner of the room.

"Goddammit…" Brenya muttered as she wiped her mouth with the front of her dress, not seeing any sign of either briefcase from the transaction. "That asshole in the biker jacket must've made off with both of the cases".

If she heard correctly while in the lounge, it sounded like the sole survivor of the firefight was wounded, so it was possible she could intercept him before he got too far. The problem was that Brenya had no idea how to fight and these criminals clearly did. Brenya looked at the unused pistol in Steve's holster, but thought the better of it since she had no idea how to use a gun. Plus, getting arrested at a shooting with a gun on you wasn't exactly a good look. Instead, Brenya reached for the butterfly knife embedded in Steve's hand and pulled it out with a shudder as some of the warm blood dripped from the blade down her exposed forearm. From the looks of things, Steve getting his hand impaled by the blade was the act that kicked off the violence. Given that Steve's gun was still holstered, he was probably the first one to die. Carl went down with a bit more of a fight, taking one of the cartel men with him and wounding the other.

As Brenya let out an amused laugh about what a brute Carl had been, the reality of Brenya's situation finally began to sink in. She might be able to escape from the crime scene now, but without the cartel's suitcase she would never be able to save her baby brother. That's without even considering what the church, or cult to be more accurate, would do to her if they perceived her lack of action as a 'failure of faith'. They'd probably hunt her down and subject her to severe punishments at best. But what was she supposed to do in this situation? She was a small girl in her early twenties with no combat training doing her best to improvise with her street smarts. While she had gotten into a fight or two before, none of them were ever life or death like this! She wasn't some action hero who could solve her problems with fists of fury. Her best chance of getting out of this without getting killed or arrested was to try to track the hurt criminal down and stalk him from a distance. She could then take the cases when he wasn't paying attention.

Brenya briefly returned to the corner entrance she used to enter the club and hastily put on her grey sweat clothes. Opening the emergency exit door slowly, Brenya peered out into the narrow alleyway before seeing someone and quietly clicking the door shut. She prayed that she was not seen. Hiding behind the door and staying as quiet as a church mouse, Brenya waited for a few seconds and listened for footsteps that never came. Did she dare test her luck again?

"Of course I mug the one employee that doesn't own a car or have their phone with them" a voice from the alleyway growls. "You better keep pressure on my wound! If I feel like I'm about to pass out, I'll make sure the last thing I do is put a bullet in your skull".

"Ye...yes sir" a familiar voice stuttered.

Was the young man who let her into the VIP lounge being held at gunpoint by the cartel member who absconded with the briefcases? Brenya thought that the criminal wouldn't be able to get far, but didn't think that he wouldn't even be able to make it a block. What should she do from here though? She didn't think either man saw her when she tried to open the door. She could just wait until the criminal passed out from blood loss, but he would likely kill the club employee before he did. Did she really care if that happened, as long as she got what she needed? The better question was whether the police would arrive by the time he closed his eyes. It wouldn't be too long before the police arrived, so whether to save this young man or to keep her chance of escape in tact, she needed to make her move soon.

Brenya took a deep breath before slamming all of her body weight into the door and sprinting towards where she heard the voices.

"What the hell?!" the man in biker jack exclaimed, lifting his revolver with a limp looking arm.

Brenya dove right as a shot rang out. She had managed to hit the dirt in time, but her palms were scrapped by the loose gravel and glass on the ground as she slid.

"No you don't!" the club employee shouted, taking a few steps towards the criminal and violently pushing them into the wall of the club building. This staggered the wounded criminal, who dropped their gun on the floor.

Brenya picked herself off the ground rushed at the man, brandishing her newly acquired butterfly knife in her dominant left hand. As the criminal desperately tried to locate the firearm he had dropped, Brenya grabbed man by the face with her right arm and pushed her fingernail into his eye hard. Feeling the blood warm her fingers, she used her newly established grip to swing her knife clumsily towards the man's other eye in a violent thrust. Despite not having any formal combat training, Brenya was somehow successful in impaling the man's eye with the short blade of her knife. The blade was not embedded deep due to Brenya lacking the strength to do serious damage, but it was more than enough to have the man howling in pain.

Just as Brenya was beginning to feel elated about successfully nearly blinding the criminal, a hard fist knocked the wind out of her chest. As she fell backwards, her vision flickered as she felt a second strike connect with the top of her temple that sent her tumbling to the ground. Completely dazed from the pummeling, Brenya's attempts to get up were mostly in vain. Her head was spinning and she struggled to take breaths as she writhed on the ground in pain. Thankfully, her young companion was doing his best to incapacitate the nearly blind criminal.

As Brenya's vision returned to her, she saw that the ruffian's revolver was a short distance away from her on the ground. Shuffling on the ground like a hungover person towards a toilet, Brenya retrieved the firearm after a few attempts. She primed the revolver and aimed it at the two grappling men. Her vision was still woozy, but she took a few deep breaths to steady herself.

"Move out of the way jackass!" she cried out to her ally, who looked over to her with fright in his eyes and did his best to disentangle from the enraged criminal.

Brenya fired the gun and missed her target wide left. The recoil knocked the gun out of her hands, causing it to clatter to the ground next to her as she made a yelping noise. The criminal took notice and started spastically lurching towards the sound of the gunfire. As Brenya reached for the gun, the criminal found her leg on the ground and started dragging her towards him.

"I've got you now, you little bitch!" he howled as Brenya tried with what strength she still had to kick him away.

Brenya reached for the revolver a second time and this time was able to retrieve it. Unfortunately by the time that she did, the criminal had hauled her all the way towards him and pinned her down with his body weight. His hand slowly felt around her body before settling on her neck and beginning to squeeze. Brenya primed the gun again and tried to raise it with her free arm, but her vision began to go black as she gasped her any air that could reach her lungs.

"Get off of her!" Brenya's companion yelled, knocking the cartel member in the head with a vicious knee that caught him completely off guard.

Finally able to breathe air again, Brenya's vision returned to her. She held the gun right to the thug's face and pulled the trigger, a deafening clang filling her ear drums. Both Brenya and her companion were showered with gore as the man's head exploded like a macabre pinata. Brenya breathed heavily as she pushed the man's corpse from off the top of her, feeling the swelling near the top of her head as the spot where the man hit her begin to bruise.

"Here, let me help you up" the young man exclaimed as he met Brenya's outstretched hand with his own and hoisted her up.

Still feeling a bit shaky, Brenya glanced away from the young man who helped her and to the corner of the alley where the two suitcases that her attacker from a moment ago had tried to abscond with lay. Without even acknowledging her companion, Brenya walked to the cases and grasped one in each hand. She was surprised by the weight of both containers.

"What are you doing?" her companion asked, a confused look on her face. "You don't want to get in trouble by touching stuff at a crime scene!"

"It's best if you don't think about it too much" Brenya said silently, cursing the fact that her task forced to act this way around someone who genuinely wanted to be helpful.

"Wait… you're with one of those groups, aren't you?" the young man whispered as he slowly stepped towards Brenya and backed her towards a wall. "Your honeyed words… you coming to save me… None of it was out of that was real, was it?"

While the words were true, that didn't change the fact that they stung Brenya. She never wanted anyone to be hurt, her unlikely companion included. Regardless of how she felt, she realized that anything she said to him now would fall on deaf ears. Dropping one of the two cases to properly hold the revolver, she pointed it at the young man who was beginning to crowd her.

"I don't want you to get involved in this" Brenya murmured, her sad eyes burrowing into the young man's. "I need you to calm down and let me walk away. You'll be safe until the police arrive if you just stay put".

"I'm not going to let you leave" the young man declared, staring Brenya down. "You're going to answer for what you've…"

Before the young man could finish, a third figure dashed into the alley and shoved the young man into Brenya with considerable force. The force of the impact caused Brenya to tumble back into the wall and drop the suitcase. The young man bounced off of Brenya and lay sprawled out in the alley, more stunned than hurt. The new figure quickly regained stride and scooped up both of the suitcases, one under each of his lanky arms. Realizing the severity of the situation, Brenya picked herself up off of the ground quickly and dashed after him. Upon seeing his clothes, she immediately recognized who he was.

"The bartender?!" Brenya exclaimed in shock as she sprinted after the thief.

The young man, still startled by getting knocked over, decided that it was unsafe to stay in this alley with all of the commotion and started running towards the street in front of the club's entrance. Brenya continued to dash after the bartender straight down the alley until they reached a ten foot high metal gate near the end of a property. Seeing that he had nowhere to run, the bartender quickly dropped both cases while turning to face Brenya and brandishing his gun. Wait, since when did he have a gun? Brenya reach for her pocket, only to realize that the revolver that she took from the cartel member was not on her person and now likely being pointed straight at her. How did he have the time to pick up the case and the gun while Brenya was on the ground?

"It'd be a shame to get a stain on that beautiful dress" the bartender exclaimed, way too casually for someone who had a gun to another person's head. "Then again, you didn't leave your generous bartender a tip before you stormed off".

"I have no need to tip a cartel man" Brenya hissed, staring daggers into the man's eyes, trying to maintain a tough facade.

"Who said anything about a cartel?" the man scoffed, winking at the younger woman as he stroked his mustache. "I'm just a cowboy looking for a big score and I took notice when those two toughs started lurking around my bar. You were the last person I expected to be wrapped up in all this though".

Brenya observed the man's laxly worn uniform and saw that his name tag read 'Lonnie Jones'.

"Listen here pretty lady" Lonnie swooned with an inappropriately timed wolf whistle. "I'm willing to let you live if you just step aside and let me get away. Sound like a deal?"

"People I care about will suffer if I let you go" Brenya explained truthfully, though she scoffed at how desperate that sounded.

"That's what they all say sister" Lonnie chuckled, priming the firearm and tapping it against Brenya's forehead. "That's my final offer, hon. Take it or leave it".

"I don't know that I…" Brenya started before getting cut off by the loud crack of gunfire.

Brenya half expected to feel pain for a moment, but quickly realize that Lonnie was not the one who fired the gun. The shot had come from the other side of the alley towards the road! The quiet echo of the shot was quickly accompanied by a howling scream of pain as Brenya tried to turn around quickly to find the source of the scream. Taking action while Brenya was distracted, Lonnie pocketed his revolver and tossed both suitcases over the fence into the dumpster on the other side. With a short running start, Lonnie bounded up the wall of the alley and sprang over the top of the fence before recollecting his items.

"Adios little girl" Lonnie chided with a bit of sass. "If I ever see you again, you're buying the first round".

Before Brenya could do anything to stop him, Lonnie dashed away and out of sight. Brenya curse under her breath about losing the goods, but she at least had the name and appearance of the man who had taken them. Maybe the Church of One Blood wouldn't kill her now. Now she just had to avoid the police. Maybe the goon she killed earlier drove here in something? Deciding to try that idea, Brenya hastily sprinted back down the dark alley to the man's body and started digging through his pockets. A small smile formed on her lips as she retrieved a pair of keys from the dead man's jeans. Raising the keys and hitting the unlock button, Brenya saw the lights of a black sedan parked across the street flash on briefly. This short moment of joy was shattered by the bloodcurdling scream that followed it.

"Help me!" a voice cried out from the road.

Brenya saw the young nightclub employee with his slouched body propped up against Brenya's planned getaway car, a pained look on his face. The man clutched the side of his chest with both hands, failing to keep enough pressure on his wound to stop his uniform from being soaked a dark crimson. Brenya observed a trail of dark liquid that ran across the dimly lit street from where the man lay to a larger puddle of gore in the street's center. She had no doubts now that he was the one shot a moment ago, but what puzzled her was the lack of any visible shooter.

As she evaluated the situation, Brenya saw the young man behind the car's truck spot her. Brenya pressed a finger to her lips to silence him, but that didn't stop him from subconsciously waddling to a new position behind the car. Like clockwork, a second shot rang out from a nearby rooftop and bullet once again tasted flesh. Having been struck in the calf, the young man tumbled to the ground and again screamed in agony. Brenya slowly backpedaled into the safety of the alley, hoping to slip away without the injured man giving away her location.

"Please…" the man pleaded, tears rolling down his face.

Brenya's eyes widened, the man's pleas stoking memories of a time long passed, but no forgotten. Those were the same eyes her siblings would make when there wasn't enough bread to feed many mouths. She had the sins and scars to prove that she would have given anything for them, but it still wasn't enough. She had to be there for her brother, but how could she refuse such a pleading look?

"God dammit…" she whispered under her breath.

Without thinking she sprinted out of the alley and slid feet first like a baseball player next the wounded man. As she moved, a shot resounded across the concrete labyrinth and a bullet clanged off of the side of the car Brenya had escaped behind. From this distance, Brenya could audibly hear the metallic mechanism of her assailants bolt action rifle and made a mental note of it.

"Sorry, no time to be gentle" Brenya apologized as she used all of her minimal strength to drag the man feet first towards the side of the door.

Flinging the car door open just in time for the window's glass to be shattered, Brenya shock the safety glass off of her head in a state of near panic. She quickly picked the larger man up and heaved him into the back seat, feeling a strain in her right shoulder as she did so. Another bullet pierced the door, missing Brenya by millimeters. Dropping to the ground, Brenya thought it safer to crawl underneath the car than try to run around it. She winced as she felt the gravel and glass underneath the car shred what little remained of her sweat clothes and scraped at her exposed skin. Crawling near the driver's side door, Brenya heard a shot strike the front of the car and dangerously close to the man's position in the back. Ceasing the opportunity, Brenya flung herself to her feet and opened the driver's door. Slamming it behind her, Brenya ducked in time for a bullet to slam through the windshield right above her. Palming for the key she pocketed, Brenya dropped the key beneath the seats. She desperately tried to shove her hand between the seats as more shots rained down from above. Both of the outside mirrors were the next to be shattered by the shooter's relentless assault. A brief respite in the shooting gave Brenya smoke opportunity to secure the dropped key, which Brenya assumed was due to the shooter's need to reload. Where the hell were the police?

Finally inserting the keys into the ignition, the car sprang to life. While keeping her head low, Brenya shifted the car into reverse and accelerated into the car bashed into the one parallel parked behind it. The still ajar back door slammed into a street lamppost before slamming shut Not having to worry about damages to other people's cars, she shifted into drive and turned 270 degrees and floored it as bullets continued to tear through the back of the car. As she sped away, Brenya risked a glance into the rear-view mirror to see if she could catch a glimpse of her assailant. She could barely make out a shadowy figure on the metal fire escape of a building a block away. Aside from his rifle, the only other item the flickering lights around him illuminated were a pair of metallic rectangular glasses on his face. Before she could observe further, a final shot meant for her head veered off target and shattered the rear view mirror. Jolted back to awareness, Brenya sped up and took a sharp corner away from the club. As she sped away, she could start to hear the sound of sirens approaching the club in the distance.

Brenya peered back to the man in the backseat. He barely seemed to be conscious, but he had sustained no further injuries since her intervention.

"I'm getting you to the hospital" Brenya stated firmly. "Keep pressure on that wound".

She heard no response. Risking a glance to the backseat, she saw he wasn't moving. She pulled the stolen vehicle over to the side of the road and jumped into the backseat. Putting two fingers against the young man's neck, she felt no pulse whatsoever.

"No!" she yelled, moving to give the man mouth to mouth and chest compression. "I'm not losing you!"

Brenya attempted to bring the man back for several minutes, but to no avail. Despite Brenya's best efforts, the man could not be resuscitated. Cursing under her breath, Brenya slumped back into the seat and contemplated her failure. Here she was, covered in blood and grime with not much to show for it. Brenya was not scared by the danger or the fact that someone innocent died, but by the fact that none of that seemed to bother her. Even if her brother could be saved, would the ends justify the means?

Deciding that contemplation could wait, Brenya realized that she needed to sunset this car. Brenya drove for about twenty minutes to the local riverside junkyard, feeling the caked on blood start to crust on her skin in the cool night air. Upon arriving at her destination, Brenya parked the car and opened it's gasoline tank. Tearing a frayed portion on her tattered sweatpants off and dipping it into the gas tank to wet it, Brenya decided to scrap the tattered garment entirely and threw it back into the car through one of the shattered window's. Drawing her lighter, Brenya lit the gasoline soaked cloth and quickly ran away from the car once she was sure the fire hadn't gone out. After a minute of running away from the vehicle, she heard a loud explosion that would draw everyone's attention in the area. The inferno hastily enraptured the vehicle, soon to burn her sweat clothes and the young man's body to ash along with it.

Brenya soon stood at a riverbed, her bare feet thankful to feel the soft sand of the bank. With a deep breath, Brenya jumped forward into the water and sprang up in shock over how cold it was. Once she was over the initial shock of the water's temperature, Brenya pulled her dress over her head and used the disheveled garment in conjunction with the freezing water to clean the caked on blood from her small frame. While the various cuts and scratches still lined her limbs, she looked much more presentable than her previous blood-soaked appearance.

Brenya threw her ruined dress into the center of the river with what strength she could muster. Watching the remnants of the dress get swept up by the current, Brenya had an idea. Wading further into the river towards the stronger currents, Brenya let the current drag her farther downstream.

The cold water caused Brenya to start shivering profusely, her undergarments not providing much insulation on the cool fall night. The freezing wind that swept through her soaked hair caused her to reminisce on winters she thought she had left behind forever…

* * *

Miles away in a rundown apartment complex, a door is hastily opened and slammed shut. After quickly locking the entrance, Lonnie sets down the two suitcases on his unmade bed and paces around his one room apartment anxiously.

"This'd better have been worth it" Lonnie sighed, trying to decide which of his stolen cases to open first.

Deciding on the suitcase on the left, he undid the bindings and slowly opened the lid. As he saw the contents, he fell on his rear end in shock.

"No no no, you're just seeing things…" he rationalized. " You've just had a long night…"

Lifting the lid again slowly, Lonnie saw that he wasn't dreaming. The entire suitcase was stuffed with neatly arranged bands of one hundred dollar bills. Lonnie took one of the stacks of bills and inspected them. He had experience through his various occupations on how to spot counterfeit bills, but as far as he could tell these were real. Doing some quick mental math as he counted the number of bills in the stack and determined the dimensions of the case, coming to a final estimate of…

"Five million dollars…" he slowly mouthed, barely able to comprehend the amount of money in front of him as he stared at the second suitcase. "That means you have to be worth at least that much".

The fact that the second suitcase was worth this much money terrified Lonnie. Now more curious than ever, Lonnie un-clipped the second suitcase and opened it, a quizzical look forming on his face. The case contained twenty vials of a orange-red substance, with the majority of the case's area dedicated to padding the small glass vials. Picking up one of the vials, Lonnie tried to fathom what the liquid could be. Was it a medicine? A chemical weapon? A drug? By his math, each one of these vials was worth $250,000.

"What have I gotten myself tangled up in this time" Lonnie chucked nervously…

* * *

Police lights illuminated all of the streets surrounding The Oasis, Dale's largest nightclub. Officers had already found the bodies of two cultists, two cartel members and three civilians.

"Sir, firearm casings have been found in the VIP lounge and in the alley near the side of the club" an officer relayed to Commissioner Green, who puffed a cigar and ran a hand through his short grey short hair. "We also found evidence of violence across the street, but no body has been found yet. If the shattered glass is anything to by, then at least one person might have escaped".

"Why did it take us so damn long to respond to the 911 dispatch?" Green glowered in frustration.

"A group of active shooters started firing on the first responders six blocks from here" the officer explained. "These cartel members were overwhelmed after backup arrived, but the survivors took their own lives before they were apprehended".

"So the cartel didn't want us getting here too quickly" Green grumbled. "This is going to be a tricky web to untangle, isn't it? Where the hell is the guy from forensics?!"

A police cruiser rolled into view and parked not far from the conversing officers. A slim man of Latin descent emerged from the vehicle. He had above average musculature for his slim build, but had an eerily relaxed presence. The man had a well groomed crew cut and wore his police uniform to the letter. His eyes at times had the uncaring hundred yard gaze of a mod, but occasionally were a bit shifty.

"Thanks for coming here on short notice, rookie" Green greeted, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder. "We've got quite the mess to get to the bottom of here, Allen".

"Actually, my name is Arturo Cortez sir" the new arrival explained. "You can just call me Cortez if it's easier to remember".

"You think I have time to remember a name like Cortez?" Green proclaimed sarcastically. " If you want me to remember your name, you better get to work!"

"Yes sir" Cortez parroted as he marched past Green, taking his metallic square framed glasses out of his pocket and resting them on his nose with an unreadable expression...

* * *

Author's Note: That's the end of chapter one! Please leave a review and let me know how I did if you feel up to it. Also be sure to submit a character if you are so inclined! I plan to accept 5 - 10 OCs for this story and I hope to have a stronger focus on this narrower cast of characters than I had in some of my previous stories. My rough plans for this story have four arcs plan and 25 chapter cumulative. This will likely be the longest chapter in this story, but I thought it was important to set up the groundwork here. My plan is to produce 1k - 2k word chapters on a monthly basis. I wish I could write this faster, but is the pace that I would be most likely to stick with this story given the other things I have to juggle IRL. Until next time, this is Lazersowrd88 signing out!


	2. Chapter 2: Casino

Lonnie's mind raced as he laid in his messy bed, his fingers casually running through a band of hundred dollar bills. The intermittent sounds of breaking glass or a voice raised too loud sent a chill down his spine. It was as if everyone knew his new secret. How was he going to enjoy this money if he always had to always be looking over his shoulder?

Unfortunately, he couldn't just deposit all the money in the bank and be done with it. Depositing even a fraction of his money would arouse suspicion, so the task of securing his newfound fortune would be an arduous one. Compounding the issue was the approximately $10,000 of gambling debts and interest he owed to the local cartel due to his previous escapades. Based on what he had seen back at the club, Lonnie was almost certain the money he now held had cartel origins. He would know better than most, having been desperate enough to work with them for a few years before trying to come clean. He'd have his kneecaps broken if he tried to pay them with money they thought he'd stolen!

While he could just make a break for it, he knew the cartel would try to track him down for bailing on his current debt. If they figured out he split town with their missing money, that would just add more fuel to the fire. The debt needed to be paid before he could worry about anything else. He didn't even want to think about how hard getting the science experiment in the other suitcase off his hands would be. Was gambling on those two cases a mistake?

Wait a minute, gamble! That's it! Lonnie had always seen criminals in movies using casinos to 'clean' their cash. He could clean enough of his haul to pay back the cartel, then work on a strategy to deposit the rest of the money in small increments at a few dozen banks. While he had been on a bad luck streak recently, Lonnie considered himself a skilled gambler. Even if he did lose a bit of his money at the table, it would be worth it to clean the money so the cartel wouldn't be able to trace it.

What would he do with the rest of the money though? He didn't feel comfortable bringing it all with him, but also didn't trust that someone wouldn't break into his apartment if they grew suspicious. Looking for a suitable hiding place, Lonnie paced around his cramped apartment until his eyes settled on the air duct in the corner of the room close to the ceiling. Moving a chair below the duct and standing on top of it, Lonnie used a coin from his pocket to loosen the screws to the duct's metal grate before quietly pulling the grate out of its housing. After setting the rusty metal grate on the floor, Lonnie counted out $10,000 worth of his money bands and poured them into a plain looking backpack. Moving to his small bathroom, Lonnie disassembled the rusty metal shower curtain rod and took it with him into the main room of the apartment. Holding the two cases and rod as he again climbed the chair, he used the rod to push the cases further into the air duct out of arm's reach. The duct ran from his apartment to his neighbor's room down the hall, but a 90 degree bend obscured the other room's view of the hidden cases After resealing the duct and putting the shower curtain's rod back in place, Lonnie flopped back in bed to get a bit more sleep before his trip to the casino the next day…

* * *

Lonnie walked into that casino with a confident strut, the backpack of money strapped tightly to his back. Lonnie wore a grey half gallon hat, a blue and white striped Oxford shirt tucked into bleach washed dress jeans and brown dress shoes. A pair of aviator sunglasses rest on his nose just above his full mustache. He looked and felt the part of an old Western desperado.

As he walked up to the casino's cashier booth, the young woman behind the register caught his eye. The woman stood at barely over five feet, but had the ripped musculature of a world class athlete based on her visible forearm on her sleeveless uniform. Her hair was kept in a bob that slightly obstructed her pale green eyes as they peered around the casino floor lazily. The elaborate lipstick and makeup she wore contradicted how uncomfortable she looked in the collared sleeveless vest and bowtie of her uniform. Most noticeable of all was the long cast over her left arm that ran from below the shoulder down to the hand.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked after noticing his prolonged stare.

"Yeah, sorry" Lonnie chuckled, closing the remaining distance to the counter. "The dress clothes and arm cast are an interesting fashion choice".

"I know, right!" the girl gleamed, with Lonnie now able to read the name Riley Stadtfeld off her company issued name tag. "If it was up to me, I wouldn't wear anything this stuffy and uncomfortable".

"Sound pretty hot" Lonnie cooed lecherously.

Lonnie's playful flirtation was interrupted by Riley grabbing his collar and yanking his face within inches of hers. The girl's face was beet red and her eyes sharp with malice.

"Listen here dweebenheimer" she growled, her grip on Lonnie's collar tightening. "If I didn't need this job, I'd beat you like Mike Tyson beats his punching bag".

"Ok, ok" Lonnie nervously chortled, desperately trying to diffuse the situation as he pushed himself away from her. "I get the picture. I was hoping I could buy some chips".

Lonnie opened his bag and handed each band of money to Riley, who let out a barely audible growl as she counted the money. He then opened his wallet and slapped a hundred dollar bill on the counter. While a bit slow due to only being able to use one arm, Riley was able to count out $10,100 worth of chips and pushed them to Lonnie.

"What table would you recommend for a high roller?" Lonnie asked, scooping the chips into his backpack.

"There is a championship style high roller Texas Holdem table with $2,000 big blinds and $10,000 buy in" Riley scoffed. "New tables start every other hour. Only three of the six entrants are paid out. It's a good place for a fool and his money to part ways".

"Sounds like my kind of table" Lonnie declared with a debonair grin, flicking a $100 chip back to Riley who caught it in surprise. "Keep the change".

Riley stood at the desk dumbfounded for a moment before putting the chip back on the rack and a $100 from the register in her pocket. What an odd man…

* * *

The casino's premier table was in a dark room at the center of the building with a saloon style door. A few rows of bleachers surrounded the outside of the room and made it feel like an arena. Lonnie pushed his way through the saloon doors and immediately noticed the casino employees staffed in every corner of the rectangular room. Fortunately there was a seat free at the table, so Lonnie sat down and started counting out $10,000 in chips.

"Welcome, Mr…" the dealer began.

"Jones" Lonnie's answered.

" I see that you have already bought your chips" the dealer stated in a posh English accent. "You have fortuitous timing, Mr. Jones. A new game is just about to begin. We are merely awaiting two more players".

With a nod to the dealer, Lonnie began to observe his opponents around the table. Two of the man sat next to each other and appeared to be having a grand old time. The first looked like any generic mid level manager and was the oldest looking person at the table, but the second had a lot more swagger. The gentleman had light brown skin and short messy black hair. The two physical facets that grabbed Lonnie's attention were a scar from some kind of blade on his right cheek and a phoenix tattoo on his left arm. The man wore a blue and white striped pool shirt with green accents along with jeans. In-between the laughter, Lonnie saw he wore a firm expression. If he was as stubborn as he looked, maybe Lonnie could get him to overcommit to a hand.

The third man at the table sat by himself. The man was shorter in stature but was athletic and lean. He wore a light jacket and jeans in his casual dress, with a USA flag hat pulled down low to hide his eyes. Lonnie noticed a visible scar on the palm of his right hand, the only discoloration he could see on the man's light olive skin. The man looked up and met Lonnie's gaze for a moment. His expression was chilly and stoic as his focused gaze borrowed into Lonnie's metaphorical mask.

A loud crashing noise interrupted the staring contest as a loud pair burst into the room.

"I'm going to win this money and there's nothing anyone can do about it!" a scrawny looking beanpole with a mess of wavy layer strawberry blonde hair announced in a prissy voice. "No one will stop me from building my dream home in Sweden!"

"Dude, what are you thinking?!" his concerned friend warned. "You've never even played poker before! This is the equivalent of entering the Tour De France to learn how to bicycle".

"Don't hate on my great idea!" the naive fool scolded. "Lady luck will guide me to victory!"

The two sat down in the remaining two seats. The loudmouth's friend was a short young man with clean cut short black hair and the skin complexion of a Pacific islander. Lonnie watch as the young man carefully observed everyone else at the table. Was he using his obnoxious friend as a distraction?

"Now that everyone is here, we can begin the game" the dealer chimed. "Best of luck, gentlemen".

With everyone's chips on the table, cards began being dealt. Lonnie started in the small blind, with the loudmouth in the big blind (if he even knew what that was…). Lonnie quickly glanced at his facedown cards, seeing ace king on suit.

"Action is on Mr. Nast" the dealer crowed.

Mr. Nast folded, followed by the fellow with the phoenix tattoo and the quiet islander. The friend of the man with the tattoo called, but Lonnie was confident he had the best hand. Not wanting to scare the loudmouth out of the hand, Lonnie also called and added $1,000 in chips to his small blind and pushed them to the table's center.

"So what do I do now?" the effeminate blonde haired man in the turtleneck and tattered jeans asked the dealer.

"You can either call, fold or raise, Mr. Nystrom" the dealer explained, the frustration of having to explain this clearly evident in his voice".

"Ok…" the man replied. "I'm all in!"

Lonnie could feel the color drain from his face as the eccentric man pushed his entire stack of chips to the center of the table. The entire rest of the table looked dumbfounded.

"I fold" the man across the table from Lonnie proclaimed, flicking his cards back the dealer. "It's too early to wrangle with stupid".

"I call" Lonnie announced, pushing his entire stack to the center.

"This escalated quickly…" the African American gentleman muttered to himself.

"Indeed Mr. Krane" the dealer replied. "Let me see your cards gentlemen".

Lonnie confidently revealed his ace king on suit and looked over to the odd teen expectantly. With a goofy grin the awkward man laid down… two seven off suit?

The entire room fell silent. Neil looked down the table from end to end before settling on his friend from University.

"Why's everyone so quiet Maximiliano?" Neil asked ignorantly.

"Neil… you are the dumbest boy alive!" Max howled. "You just went all in with the worst hand in poker!"

"I still believe in the heart of the cards" Neil whispered with a laugh of denial.

As Lonnie watched the flop, he felt as though his heart was ripped from his stomach like a Mortal Kombat fatality. A two, seven and king had hit the table. While he had paired his king, he had just gone from the favorite in this hand to being two cards away from losing $10,000. How did this keep happening? This is exactly how he accrued his gambling debt in the first place. Making smart bets, but losing to dumb luck.

Everyone kept silent as the turn card was revealed to be a harmless jack. Lonnie could feel the sweat begin to trickle down his temple, but tried to keep a calm facade. An ace or a king on the river could save him, but he was out of chips otherwise.

Seconds felt like hours as the river card was dealt. As soon as Lonnie saw the ace of spades hit the table, he couldn't help but smile in genuine relief. As the dealer scrapped the pile of chips over to Lonnie, Neil shot out of his chair in shock. His hands covered his mouth, but his screaming was still loud anyways. Small tears rolled down his bloodshot eyes.

"Now I'll never be able to go home!" Neil yelled to no one in particular. "Dammit all!"

"Sir, we're going to need you to leave the casino" one of the staffers from the corner calmly explained.

"Because I just lost?" Neil asked sorrowfully.

"No, because you aren't wearing any shoes" the man exclaimed, watching as Neil's skin paled even more than usual.

A trio of staffers essentially picked Neil up and carried him from the darkened room by the collar, with the distraught young man flailing wildly the entire way.

"What on Earth…" the man in the USA baseball cap pondered out loud.

With that episode behind them, the second hand was dealt. Having cleaned Neil out and gotten some chips from that manager looking guy, Lonnie could afford to play only the hands he felt good about. Now in the big blind, Lonnie was dealt an underwhelming ten six off suit. Since already had chips committed in the blind, Lonnie resigned himself to potentially limp into the hand if no one bet big…

"I'll raise to $4,000" Mr. Nast stated coolly.

"Feeling pretty good today, ay Felix?" Mr. Krane ask rhetorically.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Felix pressed, giving the smiling man an icy stare.

"Not really" the man conceded. "I just heard you answering the phone before the game. You can call me Steven or Spray"

"Spray?" Max cynically inquired, folding his hand into the table's center. "Is that supposed to be your stripper name?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Steven replied with a choked laugh, calling Felix's raise confidently.

Steven's friend also called and pushed his chips into the table's center. Seeing as three other players had raised, Lonnie folded his cards into the table wordlessly.

As the rounds of betting transpired, Lonnie made note of the way his opponents were playing. With the action starting with Felix, the young man played a disciplined game for someone so young. He seemed to have a sense of just the right amount to bet in order to keep his opponents in the hand, unknowingly marching towards his ambush. Steven seemed to believe that he had the best hand and his friend was no wiser, but Lonnie could tell that Felix's hand was better than he let on. After the river card had hit the table, Felix raised to push Steven's friend all in and Steven $2,000 away from joining him. The two friends were shocked when Felix laid pair eights onto the table to compliment the third eight he picked up on the flop. Steven's friend sat in stunned silence for a few moments before bidding farewell to the table.

In the big blind to start the next hand, Steven was forced all in. Lonnie, Felix and Max decided to call on the hand to lower Steven's odds of survival, but the lucky old dog was dealt a winning hand of king queen off suit that replenished his stack of chips and kept him in the game. Finding himself in the big blind again, Lonnie decided to limp into the hand with four two, both diamonds. The only other player that followed him was Max, whose indifferent call didn't give Lonnie many clues about the hand he was up against. The flop was ace, five and king, with the five being the only diamond on the table. At the moment, Lonnie's cards were worth more facedown, but he was one card away from a straight and two cards away from a flush.

"Raising two thousand" Max stated nonchalantly, the first of the two men to bet.

Lonnie knew this bet was meant to get his temperature. If he had to guess, Lonnie would bet that Max had paired either an ace or a king. If Max was bluffing, he was doing a damn good job at it.

"Call" Lonnie replied, pushing two thousand in his own chips to the center.

The turn card was the three of clubs, completing Lonnie's straight. Now Lonnie had to keep goading Max into matching bets, but not so much that he would scare him out of the hand.

"I call" Max calmly stated, thoroughly examining Lonnie's posture for anything he could read.

"Raise, two thousand" Lonnie cooly replied, slowly pushing his chips to center.

The gears in Max's mind started to turn as he looked from Lonnie to the chips in the center. Flicking his cards to center, Max reclined slightly in his chair and swished a stray hair out of his eyes.

"You had to have hit a straight or a flush" Max bitterly chuckles. "You were treating your cards like they were shit before, then you start betting on a three of clubs".

"I could have been bluffing, college boy" Lonnie joked outwardly, but actively panicking on the inside for having been read so easily. This young man was much more perceptive than he might first appear.

Despite having avoided losing more chips, Max now had the second shortest stack at the table. Sensing the need to reverse the negative momentum, Max counted out most of the remainder of his chips and pushed them to the table's center. The amount of chips bet was the same amount that Steven had remaining, sending a clear signal to Felix and Lonnie that he wanted them to sit the hand out. After looking at their hands, Felix and Lonnie decided they didn't have good enough hands to risk challenging Max's intent. Once the action reached Steven, he stared daggers into the youngsters eyes before pushing all of his chips into the center.

"I've got you beat" Steven sneered, flipping over king ten off suite.

"Are you sure about that?" Max grinned, flipping over his pair of kings.

"No!" Steven proclaimed, rising to his feet and pacing in frustration.

In normal circumstances, king ten would not be a bad hand to make a final stand on. However, since Max was dealt two of the other kings, his best card would not help him. The only way he could survive this hand was if he was dealt two more tens on the table or if his ten allowed him to make a straight, but both of those were highly improbable. As the flop, turn and river cards failed to bring the miracle he needed, Steven hung his head in shame for a brief moment before shaking the hands of each of the remaining three players and the dealer.

"It was a pleasure playing with you all" Steven remarked before adjusting the collar of his polo and marching away from the table.

"Congratulations on being in the money, gentlemen" the dealer drawled, giving each of the three players an approving nod. "As I'm sure you know, the earnings are split between the last three players remaining. First place earns $30,000, second place earns $17,500 and third place earns $12,000. The remaining $500 goes towards paying for the lovely staff here this evening and yours truly".

A bit of pressure was lifted from Lonnie shoulders, knowing now that he would at least make back the money he put on the line today. The tension immediately returned to said shoulders when he saw Felix push all of his money to the center in a cold, terminator esque fashion.

"Jesus christ man!" Lonnie shouted in shock. "You have somewhere to be?!"

"No, I'm just taking a page out of our islander friend's book" Felix chuckled, cracking a genuine smile for the first time this afternoon.

"Well, it takes two to tango" Max sighed, pushing in enough chips to match Felix.

Are these two insane?! Lonnie has never seen such aggression at a poker table before. He knew he had the tallest stack at the table, but if he called these raises he would be on death's door if he lost. Lonnie was dealt a king of clubs and a nine of hearts, which was neither a terrible hand nor an ideal one. If Lonnie went for it now and won, victory was practically his. If he lost, he may still be able to limp to a second place finish even if Felix was not eliminated outright. While folding and sitting out for the hand might seem like an appealing option, Lonnie would be at a significant chip disadvantage to whoever won it.

"I call" Lonnie groaned, parting with most of his chips.

The flop was a four jack king, all diamonds. While Lonnie had made top pair, the three diamonds made the chance of one of his opponents having a flush a real danger.

"I'm all in" Max quickly stated, pushing his remaining chips into the large pile at the table's center.

Lonnie sat still for a moment, flabbergasted by Max's move. Why on earth would you be going all in when Felix was already all in too? Lonnie's mind raced until he came to the only logical conclusion. Max had to be bluffing having two diamonds and was trying to scare Lonnie out of the hand.

"I call" Lonnie smirked while winking at Max, watching as the color slowly drained from the young man's face.

The remaining two cards to hit the table were a ten of diamonds and a two of clubs.

"Let's see your cards gentlemen" the dealer demanded.

"Pair jacks" Max replied, revealing his jack nine.

"Pair kings" Lonnie almost yelled, slapping his cards on the table as Max gave a dejected glare.

In unnerving, low laugh slowly built from the other side of the table as Lonnie and Max turned to meet it.

"Royal flush" Felix cackled as he laid his cards down his ace and queen of diamonds with a snap of his wrist, breaking his stoic facade. "Ace, king, queen, jack and ten of diamonds".

"Oh my god" Lonnie gawked. "I've never actually seen a royal flush in real life before…"

"Well, at least I made some money..." Max groaned, leaving the poker table after the dealer handed him the check for a third place finish. "Maybe I can go find Neil in whatever dumpster they threw him out in".

Down to his last two thousand in chips versus Felix's impressive stack of fifty-eight thousand, Lonnie felt that it wouldn't be long before he joined Max in getting booted from the table. The difficulty of heads up poker was that there is nowhere to hide. Since he was in the big blind or small blind every hand, has chips were constantly at risk. Additionally, Felix could just bet enough every hand to make Lonnie have to go all in to call. Eventually Lonnie bet the last of his chips on jack ten offsuit, but was beat by an underwhelming high card ace when neither gambler paired either of their card.

"You just got lucky this time" Lonnie said in jest, shaking Felix's hand before collecting his second place check and walking away from the table.

"Luck tends to favor the disciplined" Felix droned. "And between you and me, I was due for some good luck".

"Whatever man" Lonnie sighed. "I'll get you next time…"

* * *

After Lonnie cashed in his winner's check with Riley in the late afternoon, he noticed three sketchy looking figures standing around the slot machines and peering in his direction.

"What's the fastest lit path to the parking garage?" Felix inquired.

"Head down those stairs, then make a left" Riley replied, bareilly paying him any mind as she styled her eyelashes using a hand mirror. "You want me to call security?"

"Nah, I can handle myself" Lonnie predicted as he quickly strode in the direction she indicated.

As he walked, he noticed the trio of thugs tail him down the stairs. As he entered a narrow hallway, he turned to face his pursuers.

"You gentlemen take a wrong turn?" Lonnie asked rhetorically.

"You owe the boss money, Mr. Jones" one of the thugs muttered. "How is yous goin' pay the boss man off if yous gamblin'?"

"If you had the money, you should have paid off your cartel debt first" a more eloquent sounding cartelmen added, cracking his knuckles for effect.

"Does it really matter how I get you your money?" Lonnie scoffed. "I've got enough to pay you back right if that's all you want".

"It ain't just 'bout the money" the third mafia tough snarled. "It's about da principle. We goin' take dat money after we send yaz to da hospicals".

"I think you mean hospital, you braindead sack of shit" Lonnie taunted, unbuttoning the wrist cuffs on his dress shirt. "So are you little girls gonna actually do something or are you just window shopping?"

With that taunt, the first of the thugs charged straight at Lonnie. Lonnie ducked low and speared the man with his shoulder, driving him to the ground. Having achieved the top position, Lonnie positioned his leg to pin the man's right arm and used his position to pull the man's left arm back behind his head. Using the hold to isolate the man's elbow and shoulder joint's Lonnie quickly pulled the man's arm in a direction it should not go and heard a loud crack in response. By now the second man was already trying to pull Lonnie off his victim, so Lonnie sprang to his feet a grappled against the man. Using a directional pull to knock the man off balance, Lonnie thrust a short kick straight into the man's hyperextended knee. The impact bent the knee inward and caused the man to crumpled to the ground. Using the second man's pain as a distraction, Lonnie used a brutal stomp to the face to turn the first man's lights out. As the second cartel member hit the marble floor, Lonnie bent to his knees and put the man to sleep with a combination triangle choke and armbar.

The final cartel member stood shaking as a puddle of warm urine pooled below him. As Lonnie removed himself from his second unconscious victim, this third belligerent shakily pulled a pocket knife from his pants pocket.

"That's lame as hell man" Lonnie critiqued with a confident grin. "This ain't even that kind of fight".

"Shut up!" the third man screamed, charging Lonnie with the knife.

Like some kind of new age matador, Lonnie gracefully sidestepped the bafoonish assailant and tripped him with a lazily extended foot. The knife clattered harmlessly to the floor as the attacker fell face first to the floor. All it took was a powerful elbow to the head to knock the last man out.

Lonnie picked himself up and ran towards the garage with his backpack of money. Those lames didn't even knock his hat off! After getting to his weatherbeaten old sedan, he pulled out his cellphone as he drove away. Scrolling to an all too familiar contact, Lonnie pressed call and held the phone to his ear. After a few seconds, he heard a familiar croaking voice.

"Lonnie, my old boy!" the elderly Italian's voice proclaimed. "You finally have my money?"

"I do Nunzio, but some of you boys tried to beat me up anyway" Lonnie answered. "Over 'principle' or something like that".

"I'll admit, I did ask them to knock some sense into ya" Nunzio admitted. "I wouldn't 'ave done it if I knew you had the coin. Meet me at Romano's in downtown Dale for dinner tonight. You can give me my money then".

"How do I know you're not gonna pump me full of led?" Lonnie asked sceptically. "I'm tryin' to leave my old wheeling and dealing ways in the past".

"I guess you don't know, now do ya!" Nunzio chuckled. "I promise I'll keep sending my men after you unless you do show up".

"All right then" Lonnie answered. "Set up a reservation for seven o'clock".

* * *

A figure dressed in black leather silently crept through the hallways of the rundown apartment complex, a pump action shotgun slung over his shoulder and his phone in the other. Tugging on his rectangular framed glasses, he followed the GPS signal of the asset on his phone. He crept over to a door just outside of where the GPS believed the money was and slid his shoes off in an effort to silence his footsteps. Steadying his breath, he aimed the shotgun at the lock and blew it clean off with the buckshot.

Kicking down the door from its hinges, he blasted through a stunned man who appeared to be holding a GPS tracker. As second shocked cartelman reached for an Uzi on the table, but was quickly felled by more of the intruder's buckshot. A third man in only underwear came running out of the bathroom with a katana in hand. He swung the blade at the man in black, but was blocked by the barrel of the man's gun. Jabbing the man in the head with his elbow, the intruder spill the man's intestines across the floor with a follow up shot from his pump action.

Surveying the room, the man checked his corners to ensure the room was clear. As he quickly turned from corner to corner, he heard sobbing coming from the bathroom. Slowly stalking towards the source of the noise, the man in black found a mortified looking woman cowering in the shower.

"Please" she begged. "I have a family…"

The intruder slowly closed the shower curtain, hearing a sigh of relief from its occupant. That sigh was quickly deafened by the blast of the shotgun and the clicking of an empty casing on the bathroom floor. Blood painted the translucent shower curtain red. There could be no witnesses.

The assailant tore the small room apart with his gloved hands, careful to not leave any fingerprints. He wasn't able to find either case in the messy room. A radio suddenly buzzed to life in the man's back pocket.

"All units, we are getting reports of shots fired at the Hillside Apartments on 4th street" the staticy voice reported. "Requesting immediate SWAT and forensics team dispatch".

"This is Cortez" the man in black replied. "I'll be on the scene shortly".

* * *

Author's Note: Writing poker is so much harder than I thought it would be! Hopefully you guys enjoyed the chapter. I was able to introduce five of your submitted characters (Riley, Steven, Felix, Maximiliano and Neil) this chapter. Two or three more characters that were submitted will be introduced next chapter when the focus shifts back to Brenya. I have seven submitted characters and an eighth that's in limbo awaiting a final revision. I just need two more female characters to have a full roster, assuming that the eight submission is successfully finalized. I'm setting a submission deadline of EOD on 2/15, but will close submissions after I've accepted my 10th character if that's earlier than the 15th.

I'm curious how many of you guys picked up the hint I left that Cortez was the person trying to shoot Brenya from the catwalks last chapter? You guys can expect another update in late February. Until then, Lazersword88 is signing out!


	3. Chapter 3: Runaways

Author's Note: Welcome back to Where Dead Men Walk! I'm happy to report that I've accepted exactly 10 submitted characters! I'm happy to be working with a full cast. Thank you for your hard work on creating characters! Now that the submissions have all been received, the rating of the story is going to be raised to M to accommodate the character creator's preference for lemons. If I used the median response like I indicated in the application, the lemons would be maximum pulp. That would not be fair to the 3 authors who didn't want that much lemon, so I'm going to use the mean response of 7.2/10 instead. I hope that's a fair compromise for everyone. Enough housekeeping, let's get to the good stuff!

* * *

A middle aged balding Italian man sat by the bar at Romano's Italian Restaurant in downtown Dale. He was flanked by large tattooed men dressed in black suits who sat on opposite ends of the bar. Downing the last drops of a Manhattan cocktail, the man signaled the barkeep to make him another drink as he fidgeted with the lapels on his suit coat. A fancily dressed assistant pushed through the crowd around the bar and stood beside the man.

"Your 6:30 has arrived, Nunzio" the assistant whispered in his ear.

"It's about damn time!" Nunzio croaked. "He has some nerve coming in late".

The secretary withdrew from the bar and a tall man strolled over to Nunzio's side shortly after. He wore a light brown leather jacket over a black button up shirt, technician cargo pants, steel toed work boots and a black half gallon hat. The man had brown sun kissed skin, a brown crew cut and goatee, and a muscular physique. As he nonchalantly plopped down in the bar stool next to the annoyed cartel president, he cracked a carefree smile.

"You really ought to build a bigger parking lot for this place" the man laughed, earning a scowl from Nunzio. "I spent ten minutes just trying to find parking".

"I want you here early next time Manny!" Nunzio demanded. "The only reason I'm not having you thrown out of here is because you've done good work for me".

"I thought I told you to call me Lui" the man reminded, feigning that his feelings were hurt. "I hope you wanted me here because you have more work for me".

"I do have work for ya" Nunzio shared, pushing a file folder over to Lui. "Her name is Marisol Ibanez. She was a distributor in my cocaine business. Do you remember Marcos Sanchez?"

"Yea, I offed him for you a month or two ago" Lui whispered in reply. "He was a fifty thousand bounty".

"Well Marcos recruited Marisol into the business" Nunzio explained. "His death probably rattled her a little bit and gave her ideas. She went rogue during a transaction two days ago and killed three of my men. She stole twenty thousand in cash and a thirty thousand dollar sedan. I'll give you seventy-five thousand for her, dead or alive".

"You have yourself a deal" Lui replied, shaking Nunzio's hand. "Give this bounty to anyone else".

"Not yet" Nunzio answered, taking a sip of his new drink. "I'll give you a week of exclusivity. After that I'll contract someone else. I'm assuming an experienced cleaner like yourself wouldn't need anything else?"

"I can take care of the rest" Lui replied confidently. "Have any other jobs for me?"

"Excuse me sir" the assistant interjected, hastily walking towards Nunzio. "Your seven o'clock appointment arrived here early and threw this at me before he sped off".

The assistant handed Nunzio a duffel bag. He opened the bag to see what he assumed was the ten thousand dollars Lonnie owed him. Nunzio pulled a post it note from under one of the stacks of money and carefully read it. Crumpling the note in his hand and throwing it on the ground, Nunzio growled under his breath as he turned back to Lui.

"I do have one more job" Nunzio hissed. "I'll give you one hundred thousand dollars if you can prove you killed Lonnie Jones"...

* * *

Brenya lay against the wall of the of a dark alley, her breath clearly visible in the fall night air. Wearing a new pair of sweat clothes, she hoped she would blend in well enough with the local bums despite her size and gender. By now it was late enough that the Saturday revelers had returned home from their parties, so she hoped she wouldn't be bothered in this back alley. Residue from the river water that still clung to her skin didn't help stop her constant shivering. She never thought she'd say it, but she longed for the comfort of her closet sized dorm room and a warm rinse in the communal shower.

It wasn't as if Brenya wanted to be in this situation, but she was a broke college student without any other options. When she tried to go back to her dorm this morning, she eyed a Church of Blood lookout stationed right outside the building. Brenya had no doubt that the man had not come alone and deep down she didn't blame the church for trying to find her. Given how things went south at the nightclub, the church was likely suspicious of Brenya. Not only were their other two agents dead, but both the money and Brenya were nowhere to be found. Brenya had considered returning to the church to explain herself, but thought the better of it. Even if they did believe her story, they would prevent her from tracking down this 'Lonnie' person for her previous 'failure'.

Content with resting as much as she could with her back against the alley wall, Brenya let out a misty sigh into the cold night weather. How was she going to find Lonnie anyways? She knew nothing about him or where he might go. There were some shady dives that Brenya could ask around in, but any information would require unsavory 'favors' or a bride she didn't have the money for. Brenya shuddered at the thought.

The sound of glass breaking on a nearby street pulled Brenya from her thoughts. Getting to her feet and lurching towards the source of the sound, Brenya saw a scrawny dark brown haired boy in his early teens surrounded by a trio of sketchy looking older teens. As Brenya crept closer to the scene she saw the tallest of the three high schoolers shove the fair skinned boy to ground, likely adding to the bruises that already lined his exposed limbs.

"Yea, make the twink bleed!" one of the intoxicated adolescents yelled, waving a broken beer bottle's sharp protrusions dangerously close to the middle schooler's face.

"I already gave you my money!" the victim pleaded. "What more do you want from me?"

"Showing your face around this neighborhood is reason enough for us to kick the shit out of you" another of the delinquents mocked as he kicked the boy in the chest.

Only a few feet away from the scene that was unfolding, Brenya pulled out her phone and started taking pictures of the scene unfolding in front of her. The flashes of the camera finally alerted the nerdowells of her presence.

"Who the hell are you?!" one of the punks screamed, stepping back from his victim.

"The person who'll be submitting the evidence for the assault case" Brenya replied viciously.

"Not if we fuck you up and break that phone" the ignoramus replied. "Get her!"

As the delinquents rushed towards, Brenya unfurled her butterfly knife and pointed it at the teens threateningly. The teens laughed in unison and tried to surround Brenya as she slowly backed away. One of the teens tried to grab her, with Brenya instinctively reacting by driving the knife deep into his chest. As the man tumbled to the ground, he took the knife with him due to it being deeply embedded. Undeterred by their fallen comrade, the two remaining thugs grabbed at the now defenseless young woman. The tallest of the young men swiped at Brenya with the jagged beer bottle, but a hard slap of his forearm from Brenya caused him to lose his grip on the bottle and shattered it on the pavement. The second goon darted behind Brenya and used his stronger frame to restrain her arms from behind. As Brenya struggled against his hold, the first thug punched her hard in the chest, ejecting the meager contents of Brenya's stomach down the front of her hoodie and causing her extremities to go limp. Staring helplessly at her assailants with tired eyes, Brenya failed to will her body to fight back as the thugs took the phone from her pocket and spiked it on the ground repeatedly.

"What should we do now?" the shorter hoodlum asked the other. "That little twink probably ran off".

"Why even bother with that twerp when we have someone even better right here?" the taller of the two replied, taking Brenya's wallet from her pocket and helping himself to anything of value. "How about we take her behind the dumpster in the alley over there and have a good time?"

"B...but what about Micky?" the subordinate thug replied, looking with concern to their fellow neerdowell who was still writhing on the ground with the stab wound.

"What about him?" the older thug asked, walking to Micky and twisting the knife in his chest until he stopped moving.

Her eyes wide with fear, Brenya kicked herself free of her single captor's hold and dizzily lurched away from her assailants. She screamed at for help at the top of her lungs before running away from her attackers at the quickest speed her bruised ribs would allow. Unfortunately, it was not fast enough to escape her taller pursuer, who tackled her to the ground and took another potshot at Brenya's stomach. Brenya' clawed at the man's face, but was subdued once the tall man's partner caught up with them. The two dragged a kicking and screaming Brenya toward the dimly lit alley, with Brenya knowing all too well what was about to happen next. She thought she had left such degradation behind when she came to this country with her brother…

"There they are!" welled the young boy who was being attacked before. "They're hurting the girl who tried to help me!"

Standing next to the thin boy was a short woman with a blue arm cast on her right arm. She wore a fancy casino uniform along with intricate make-up and her hair in a bob. Brenya shrunk a little inside when she saw the 'cavalry' that had been called to save her. Why didn't the kid just call the police?

Brenya's line of thought was interrupted when a crazed howl escaped the young woman's lips and she dashed at an astonishing pace at Brenya's assailants. Before the taller of the two men could even react, the woman had lowered her shoulder and spear tackled him to the ground. Brenya has seen actual football players with worse tackling form than this diminutive woman. After slamming the man violently to the ground, the woman struck him with vicious left hands to the face repeatedly until he stopped moving. Even after the man was unconscious, the woman still punched him in the head a few more times before snarling at the last remaining thug.

As the berserk woman chased after the fleeing final assailant, the young boy quickly ran to Brenya and helped her off the ground.

"I'm so sorry about all this" the middle schooler admitted, using a napkin to clean as much of the vomit off of Brenya's sweater as he could. "Are you seriously hurt?"

"I might have some bruised ribs and the wind knocked out of me, but I'll live" Brenya replied, trying her best to give him a genuine smile. "What's your name?"

"I'm Theo" the boy replied as he slightly grimaced at his big sister kicking in the final thug's kneecap. "And she is my big sister Riley. I wanted to meet her for a late night meal out after her shift, but got jumped on my way there".

"Nice to meet you Theo" Brenya replied, dusted the dirt out of the boy's hair. "I'm Brenya".

"Wait, do you have a younger brother named Sergay at Dale General Hospital?" Theo quizzed, wincing yet again as Riley knocked the last of the thugs out by swinging her arm cast violently into his head. "He's one of my best friends".

"I do…" Brenya interrogated, giving Theo a suspicious look. "How do you know him?"

"I met him during my visits to the hospital!" Theo replied gleefully. "I have to visit a psychiatrist once a week, so I spend some time with him when I go. He worries about you a lot, especially now that all of these weird people are visiting him".

Brenya felt herself shrink to his words. Of course they would send someone to watch her brother as collateral. She'd be lying if the idea of springing him from the hospital and going on the fun hadn't crossed her desperate mind, but knew that her brother's tumor would whittle him away quicker without treatment. Brenya could only pray that they didn't decide to hurt him…

"Are you sure you're ok?" Theo pressed, concerned with Brenya's silence. "You can lean on me if you need to".

Her lithe frame was probably all the thin boy could support, but Brenya took him up on the offer to ease his nerves. That and her ribs were still killing her. The young woman who came to the duo's rescue slowly walked towards them, taking Brenya's measure with a suspicious glance.

"You can trust her Riley" the younger sibling whispered nervously. "She tried to help me back there. Plus I'm friends with her brother".

Riley's gaze persisted for another beat before softening. Without warning, Riley's uninjured arm wrapped around both Brenya and her brother.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" the suddenly jubilant young woman repeated, putting a slightly uncomfortable amount of pressure on Brenya's chest with her tight squeeze. "Anything bad happening to my precious baby brother would have completely wrecked me".

"Don't worry about it…" Brenya wheezed out, tapping on Riley's shoulder in vain attempt to ease her death grip.

"Need somewhere to crash tonight?" Theo asked, seeing Brenya's disheveled look and meeting Riley's warm gaze.

"I think I'll take you up on that" Brenya replied with a heartfelt smile that slowly dissipated as she heard one of the downed thugs groan loudly. "I could use one other thing, if you don't mind".

As the delinquent's consciousness returned, he felt himself lifted off the ground by the collar by the woman with the arm cast. The young woman he had attacked started punching him repeatedly in the chest. Her strikes were not hard, but were still painful due to the damage the other girl had done previously. After about twenty strikes to the abdomen, the girl stopped and stared at the man with a menacing scowl.

"Tell me everything you know about Lonnie Jones…"

* * *

Back at the Stadtfeld siblings' apartment, Brenya slept peacefully on the fold out couch. That couch was very uncomfortable, so she must have been exhausted. After letting her take a quick shower, Riley and Theo helped treat Brenya's wounds as best they could. While nothing was threatening, Brenya had several large bruises and welts. Could all of this have been inflicted by those men?

Riley pulled the blankets over her brother's legs as she tucked him in for the night. It was already well past midnight, so if they were going to get any sleep tonight they needed to get to bed now.

"You alright sis?" Theo asked, seeing the pensive look on his sister's face. While she might be scary when she's agitated, she was usually lax when not stressed.

"Tell me more about what you know about Brenya" Riley whispered, careful not to wake up the girl in the next room.

"I only really know what Sergey told me about her" Theo replied. "She and her brother are orphans from Russia. They were adopted by a couple in Dale, but the process fell through after Sergey's cancer diagnosis".

"Then why is she roaming the streets alone at night?" Riley inquired. "Why isn't she with her brother? Why was she so concerned about that Lonnie person?"

"I don't know" Theo reflected. "Whatever is happening probably has something to do with those people who are keeping watch over him".

"Do we really want to get involved with whatever is going on here?" Riley asked, placing a hand on Theo's covered shoulder. "I'd feel better if you stopped going to visit Sergey".

"I'll think about" Theo yawned. "Night sis…"

"Goodnight…" Riley whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead before tip toeing out of the room quietly.

Returning to the main room of the apartment, Riley quietly crept around the room and grabbed everything of substantial value. While she wanted to trust her brother's judgement, she was still wary of strangers…

* * *

"Can I get you anything to drink?" the woman in the waitress apron asked as Steven avoided eye contact nervously.

"Ehm… I'll have the dark roast please" Steven sputtered, trying and failing to be calm around the woman who was a decade younger than him. "Cream on the side".

A snide reply died on the woman's tongue, smirking over a joke only she knew. The woman has a long legged hourglass figure, dark blue eyes and a head of black hair tied back into a ponytail. Brushing her bangs from her eyes, she decided to toy with the nervous fellow and give him a playful wink.

"I'll have Shao bring you your coffee" the woman smirked. "Ready to put an order for food in?"

"Not quite yet" Steven replied, closely inspecting the menu to calm his nerves. "I'm still waiting on someone to get here".

"All right sugah" the young woman replied. "Just ask for Liilian if you need anything!".

As the voluptuous woman left the side of the table, a child scurried from the play area on the other side of the room and wrapped his arms around Lillian's leg. Steven could easily tell that he was Lillian's son given his light skin tone and ruffled black hair.

"Settle down and go back to the playpen Damian" Lillian coddled. "Mommy's working".

As Lillian ushered her boy back to the kid's play area, a second woman who Steven assumed was Shao emerged from the bakery's kitchen with his coffee. The woman was of an oriental descent that Steven couldn't really place. Was she Thai? Or maybe Laos? She had black hair with grey highlights styled in a bob, pale skin and somewhat mild facial features. While nearly the same height as Lillian, Shao was simultaneously stockier and a bit more pudgy. She wore a thin gold necklace and diamond earrings to compliment her waitress uniform.

"Here's your coffee sir" Shao exclaimed cheerfully, her voice husky and vaguely masculine voice.

As Shao moved to help another table on the other side of the bakery, she made a silly face in front of Damien. As the young boy began to laugh, Shao picked up the boy and began swinging him through the air. As the young boy giggled and made airplane noises, Lillian could only shake her head in amusement from behind the bakery's counter. She had doubts about the young temp worker before, but Shao proved to be as good around customers as she was around children. Not that there seemed to be a difference sometimes. Bored due to the lack of customers in the early morning, Lillian cracked open an old textbook from her stint at university and picked up her reading. After a few minutes of sipping his coffee, Steven worked up the nerve to ask her about it.

"Studying to be a doctor?" he asked in-between sips

"Nursing, actually" Lillian explained as she eyed her boy. "I had to drop out to take care of this little monster".

"Think you'll go back once he hits school age?" Steven nodded in approval.

"I haven't decided yet" Lillian replied honestly. "It'd be a better life for the two of us if I did, but making the money or paying the loans would make things really tough for a while".

Steven had seen enough cases to be able to piece together the rest about her. She was likely a single mother with a less than supportive family. At least it didn't seem like the father was abusive.

"You recognized the textbook" Lillian continued, pulling Steven from his thoughts. "What do you do for a living, mister?"

"I work in law enforcement" Steven explained. "I had to take a few anatomy classes studying criminal justice".

"But you don't look like a cop" Lillian retorted.

"Who said that I was?" Steven deflected, a self-sure smile on his face. "Ah, he's here a few minutes early!"

A young man wearing a US flag hat and practical outerwear pushed his way through the glass door of the small bakery. Steven waved him over to his table as he pulled a folder from his bag on the floor.

"You're Felix Nast, right?" Steven asked rhetorically, extending his hand to his interviewee. "Nice to meet you".

"Good seeing you again" Felix replied, earning a confused look from Steven as they shook hands. "I hope my poker skills aren't a mark against me".

"That's right, you were in that game!" Steven recalled, now recognizing the young man. "It really is a small world, isn't it? I'm trying to forget that game if we're being honest…"

"Then I shouldn't tell you how it ended then" Felix jabbed with a wry smile. "So how long have you been with the FBI?"

"I'm coming up on ten years" Steven answered, earning a curious glance from Lillian as she topped off Steven's coffee.

"What can I get you gents?" Lillian inquired, pulling out a pen and pad.

"Sausage gravy and biscuits for me" Steven replied.

"Three glazed donuts and some orange juice for me" Felix replied, handing the duo's menus to Lillian.

"I'll put that right in" Lillian declared, making her way back to the kitchen.

"Let's see here…" Steven began, pulling out Felix's profile and reading some of it aloud. "Staff Sergeant in the Air Force at 20, purple heart and bronze star recipient, 24th Special Tactics Squadron, 37 confirmed kills… Wilderness survival, airborne and diving experience… You've been through a lot during your service!"

"It's had its ups and downs" Felix replied dryly.

"So this interview is for a contract position working with me on a high profile case here in Dale" Steven explained. "I need someone who is both familiar with the town of Dale and who has combat experience. Your commanding officer in the USAF recommended you for the job".

"I've lived in Dale for the last two years" Felix added. "I plan on using my education accreditation to get my degree at Dale University starting this spring. I know the town pretty well. Are you not from the area?"

"I'm from St. Paul, Minnesota" Steven answered, taking another long sip of coffee as Shao handed Felix his orange juice. "I was just in Dale to visit an old college friend, but the bureau asked me to stay here to look into something big…"

Steven was interrupted by Liilian delivering the pair's, giving the older man a knowing smile as consolation for the interruption. Steven let out a small sigh before stabbing his fork into the gravy covered biscuit.

"Enough beating around the bush" he said sternly. "Let's get this interview back on track…"

* * *

It was a fairly slow day at Rayner Auto Repair, with Vikki swiping the credit card of the last scheduled customer of the day. The car was in the shop for an oil change and tire rotation, but Vikki found that one of the rear shocks on the vehicle was broken. Fortunately, Vikki had the part in stock and was able to repair the vehicle in just over an hour. Some people are shocked to see Vikki's proficiency with auto mechanics, but she is the shop owner's niece after all.

After verifying the transaction went through, Vikki hand the middle aged lady her keys and watched as they left the shop. Sitting in the chair behind the office desk, Vikki leaned back and stretched her toned arms. Taking a wet rag and wiping some of the black grease off of her tanned skin and Ash blond hair, the young woman began to loathe that she was closing the shop today. Vikki's tall and curvy figure filled out her black mechanics overalls well, often earning her the attention of her fellow mechanics. She'd much rather put up with their attention than with the boredom that was starting to set in. Something fun might have come out of that at least… Her grey eyes gazed at her phone as she undid the Dutch Plait that held the unshaven half of her ash blond hair constrained. Only an hour until she can close the shop…

The door to the shop's office was forcefully shoved open and a person confidently walked in. At first, Vikki had trouble pinning down the gender of her guest, but eventually concluded that she was a girl. Still, the way this girl walked, dressed and carried herself seemed fairly masculine. The girl had a hastily cut bob dyed dark green, sun kissed Latin skin and brown eyes. A leather jacket, matching jeans, several chains, a hot topic tee and combat boots completed the edgy look. While Vikki might have cause to be slightly intimidated by her new guest, the fact that she was nearly two heads shorter than Vikki made the mechanic think her try hard look was almost cute in a way.

"Have room for one more today?" the woman asked forcefully.

"We're closed in less than an hour" Vikki responded. "I can take a look at it, but I can't promise it'll be done…"

"I'll make it worth your time!" the woman yelled, slamming a messy pile of bills on to the table so hard that Vikki was concerned she might break it. "I know a little bit about cars, so I could even help the mechanic out if that's make things quicker".

"I can't take any of this" Vikki replied with a mix of nervousness and concern, pushing the pile of ruffled bills back towards the woman. "What's all the rush about? If you needed the car done today, you should've brought the car sooner than an hour before we closed!"

"Well listen here miss receptionist!" the woman screamed, her anger clearly boiling over. "I need to travel out of town tomorrow and I'm not going anywhere if my engine keeps cutting off! I can pay you double if you want, but I need this done now!"

Vikki got up from the receptionist chair and walked around the desk to stand right in the woman's face. She almost felt like she should just kick this loudmouth out, but for some reason her gut told her this strange woman's need was that urgent.

"Yelling at the people who can help you is going to get you nowhere" Vikki muttered, keeping herself calm. "Now how about you sit down in this chair for a few minutes and let me take a look at the…"

The loud screech of tires coming to a stop can be heard from the parking lot outside. The customer's anger drains from her face along with her color as a look of sheer panic crosses her features.

"You've got to hide me!" the woman hisses, her brown eyes darting around the office in desperation. "Please!"

"What the hell is going…" Vikki starts, but the woman suddenly grabs her forearms and stares into her soul with pleading eyes.

"Fuck me and my soft heart…" Vikki mutters, taking the woman's hand and leading her behind the desk.

Vikki shoves the woman down to knees below the desk and turns to face the trio of cartel cronies who burst through the office door.

"We're about to close, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave" Vikki commanded, watching the three middle aged men closely.

"I think you'll find it worth your while for you to stay open for us" a man of Latin American descent among the three threatened, revealing a holstered knife on his belt.

"Maybe your old ears didn't hear me" Vikki scowled, gripping the tire iron that her uncle told her to stash under the desk and brandishing it in her hands. "Your kind isn't welcome here".

"Oh, look at the big scary girly who thinks she's so tough" an Italian cartelman croaked. "Just put down the toy and answer our questions before someone gets hurt".

"Listen you greasy piece of shit" Vikki growled, pointing to a camera above the desk. "You're being recorded. Any stunt you try to pull will have the police hanging you by the balls".

"Lady, just hear us out" the eldest of the cartelman eased. "All we want to know about is where the owner of the green sedan out front is. Our business is with them, not you".

"They dropped the car off an hour ago and got an uber" Vikki lied. "They said they'd be back around noon tomorrow to pick the car up. Now would you kindly get the hell out of my office?"

"How about you cough up the keys then princess?" the Italian demanded, his hand now on the grip of his pistol. "I ain't gonna ask nice again".

Before the situation could escalate any further, a fourth man walks through the office door and aims a pistol at the cartelman's head.

"Easy now" the newcomer directs. "I don't want to spill your guts on these nice lobby carpets. I suggest all three of you get moving".

As both Vikki and the newcomer surround the trio, the eldest cartelmen eyed the camera and let out a sigh.

"I suppose you're right" the man said, pulling his associate's hand off his gun's grip and turning towards the exit. "We'll be back tomorrow".

As the new arrival stepped to Vikki's side, the three cartelmen left the office and sped away in their car.

"What was that all about roomie?" the red headed man asked, holstering his sidearm. "I leave you alone for a few hours and you're about to be robbed by mobsters!"

"Stop being so dramatic Conner!" Vikki exclaimed, giving her roommate a playful shove. "I do appreciate the save".

With the threat gone, the woman sprang from out of her hiding place so fast that Conner almost reached for his gun.

"Another stray?" Conner sighed.

"She's just a customer Conner" Vikki pouted, not liking her roommate's insinuation. "Those cartel goons were trying to give her some trouble".

"I can keep watch outside if you want to help her out" Conner offered…

* * *

Deciding that she would take a look at the woman's car, Vikki opened the garage door and wheeled the car inside. She immediately observed what the odd woman was describing as the car's engine stammered and struggled to provide the power needed to get into the garage. Since the other technicians already went home for the day, Vikki took up the women's offered to help. Speaking of which…

"I want you to tell me everything" Vikki demanded, stepping out of the vehicle and putting a firm hand on the woman's leather covered shoulder. "We can start with your name".

"I'm Jenny Sanchez" the woman replied quickly.

"Bullshit" Vikki interrogated. "If you want my help, you're going to treat me with more respect. I've known much better liars than you".

"Fine!" Mari yelled in protest. "If you're so gung-ho on throwing yourself in the fire, I won't stop you! The name's Marisol Ibanez. Don't wear it out".

"Ok Mari" Vikki replied as she released her grip and moved to pop the hood of the car. "What'd you do to get the cartel after you? Is that why you're on the run?"

"How can I trust that you won't just rat me out if I told you?" Mari questioned.

"There are ways you can pay me back" Vikki replied with a wink. "The first of which is paying me double for the repair, like you offered. Who am I to turn down a pay day?"

"That's fair" Mari replied, closing her eyes and letting out a small sigh. "I'm a cartel deserter trying to get out of dodge. I stole some money from them on my way out".

Mari squirmed under Vikki's judging stare, bit found the courage to continue as tall mechanic's face slowly softened.

"Look, I'm not some pity case!" Mari protested, ruffling a hand through her recently cut hair. "I didn't have many options, but it was my choice. Just like it's my choice to get clear now. I'm done with all the violence".

Vikki took a moment to process what Mari had said. As she started the car and inserted her mechanic's code reader into the plug under the car's dash. As she read the codes, she noticed evidence that the wiring might have been tampered with at some point. Did Mari hot wire this car at some point? Everything about this seemed wrong, but her first impulse to trust the fugitive still held sway.

"Consistent power is not getting to the engine" Vikki relayed before turning attention back to the code reader. "Looks like a few of your ignition coils are dead, so the engine and other systems aren't getting enough juice. Let me look up the part and see if we have it in stock".

Vikki flipped through the pages of a yellow manual and typed on a tablet device as Mari wrung her hands together nervously. After a moment Vikki walked into a storage room and continued her search for the part. Mari heard a loud curse echo from the room, followed by Vikki walking back to the main room with a frown on her face.

"Unfortunately we don't have the coil you need in stock" Vikki stated. "I can place an order for the part from our supplier, but the soonest I'd be able to get the car done is by 11 am tomorrow".

Mari looked like she was about to boil over in frustration, but relented when she realized that her the woman who had gone out of her way to help did not deserve her fury. A sudden realization hit Mari as Vikki turned the car off and shut the hood.

"I can pay you up front if you'd like" Mari offered. "Who knows if I'm alive tomorrow to pay you then".

"Don't be so macabre" Vikki chuckled, pulling a tarp over the car and ushering Mari back into the office.

"Parts and labor are $250" Vikki exclaimed, printing the itemized receipt and handing it to Mari.

Mari looked over the bill carefully, handing Vikki five hundred dollar bills to fulfill her promise.

"Know any cheap motels I could spend the night at?" Mari asked.

"I've got a couch you could crash on for the night" Vikki offered. "Or I've got a queen size bed in my room".

"For how much I paid for the repairs, I better get the bed!" Mari jested with a slight blush.

"Hope you like Fettuccine Alfredo, cause that's what Conner and I are having tonight!" Vikki laughed, looking Mari over from head to toe.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to wine and dine me" Mari gawked sarcastically.

"Who said that I wasn't?" Vikki cooed, instantly causing a major blush to form across the other girl's face…

* * *

Four figures dressed in crimson robes sat inside an ornately decorated underground office. Behind a mahogany desk sat Father Roland, the founder of the Church of Blood and its head priest. The man was balding, with the hair he did have left grey and frilly. Entering his late sixties, it was safe to say that his physical peak was well behind him. Despite his old age, the man still ran managed the church's outreach and recruitment. The man had an eerie calm about him that would make those he meets think that he already knew everything about them.

"Do we have any word on Brenya's whereabouts?" the old man asked his top lieutenants.

"My men on lookout at the hospital and her dorm have not spotted her" an ebony skinned woman with a nearly amazonian figure replied.

"We all know you have a soft spot for the girlie Gwenevere" the man scraggly man with thick glasses to her right mocked. "Should we really trust your word about her whereabouts?"

"Maybe if your lab rat cronies could sort out anything that happened at the nightclub, we wouldn't need to hunt the girl down, Stein!" Gwenevere countered passionately.

"Guilty or not, the girl deserves divine damnation!" a young woman standing behind Father Roland's chair cried. "I will not let such a foul blooded mongrel disparage my grandfather so!"

"That's enough Anise" Roland interjected. "I think we've proven that Brenya is slippery and that we are wasting our time combing the city for her. Stein, have your men continue studying the crime scene. Since you know each other so intimately, I order you to track her down Gwen".

"It will be done father" Gwen replied. "What would you like me to do when I find her?"

"Assess the situation" Roland ordered. "Either assist Brenya in her task or bring her in alive if she has truly forsaken her promise. You are dismissed"...

* * *

Author's Note: We have now met every major character in this story! This chapter had to jump around a lot in order to do that, but the next chapter should include a few longer scenes. Theo and Conner were both minor characters on Riley and Vikki's applications respectively. Expect them to only play minor roles in the future. For the combat scenes, Brenya is still a first stage trainee with ten of her points dedicated to Awareness, so she was in over her head in a direct confrontation against multiple opponents. Riley on the other hand has six strength and nine agility, which helped her have an easier time with the thugs despite having an arm cast. Just imagine the wrath she will bring once her arm heals! Looks like I'm going to submit this just before my monthly deadline. February was busy and I ran into a bit of writer's block early in the month, but I pushed myself and got the chapter done. Expect future chapters to stay under 4k words. Get ready to ride along with Arturo for a wild ride in March's chapter! Please remember to leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter. Until next time, Lazersword88 is signing off!


	4. Chapter 4: Showdown

Author's Note: Hi everyone! Hope everyone is doing fine while in quarantine or self-isolation. I'm working from home now, only leaving the house to buy food or exercise. I was busy early in the month cramming for and taking a certification exam, which I'm happy to say I passed! With everything grinding to a halt because of COVID-19, I should have a bit more time to dedicate to this story. I'm not going to go any faster than one chapter a month, since I think I'll burn out if I try to go any faster than that. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Theo and Riley waited tensely in the elevator as they traveled to the hospital's third floor. Riley did her best to try to dissuade her brother from visiting his friend before his wellness appointment, but after enough pleading she finally relented. After that strange girl Brenya had departed early that morning, Theo wanted to go and visit her brother Sergey. Riley and her brother already spent too much time in the hospital for her liking, so she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about being dragged along for the visit. On second thought, her muscle might be needed if what Theo had said about the people watching over Sergey was true.

Riley did not have much time to mull things over as the elevator door opened and Theo started leading his big sister by the hand down the hallway. As Theo pushed open a seemingly unremarkable door, he was met by an intimidating looking man in a black hoodie who blocked the entrance.

"What do you want?" the goon demanded as he stood his ground.

"I'm here to see my friend Sergey" Theo explained, taking a step back from the doorway subconsciously.

"He's not up to seeing guests right now" the tough man lied, moving to slam the door in the sibling's face but being stopped by Riley catching the door.

"You don't look like a fucking doctor to me" Riley hissed. "I'm sure we can find you a comfortable gurney to lay on if you lie to my brother again".

"You wanna take this outside shortstack?" the agitated man threatened, grabbing Riley's shirt by the collar and staring death at her. "I'll be sure to break your other…"

"You're going to be cleaning the floors in the church tonight because of your actions Chester" a deep feminine voice commanded from behind Theo and Riley. "The toilets are next on the list if you keep this up".

"But these petulant adolescents are…" Chester stammered.

"Are welcome to visit their friend as much as they want" the large woman corrected, waving for her rude comrade to vacate the entrance. "You're relieved, Chester. The father and I will throw you back on to the street if I find a single spec of dirt on the floor when I return home".

"Yes ma'am" the man replied in defeat, leaving the other three near the doorway.

Despite the rude man's departure, Riley and her brother still stood near the doorway of the room in unease. The new arrival stood over a foot taller than Riley's meager 5'2" and had limbs so thick with muscle that they were wider than Theo's torso. Her hair was tied back into a single braided ponytail and she wore no makeup. Her typical street clothes looked almost unnatural on an abnormal physical specimen like her. Riley couldn't help but blush slightly at the woman's towering physique. Seeing Chester get on the elevator and leave her view, the newcomer's expression softened considerably from the stern mask she had worn a few moments ago.

"Sorry for the trouble" the woman spoke in a warm tone as she reached out an arm and playfully ruffled Theo's hair. "Has anyone ever told you that you're adorable?"

"Not this directly…" Theo whispered, not sure how to feel about being fawned over by a complete stranger.

"Could you ease up on the petting?" Riley insisted, quickly picking up on her brother's discomfort.

"Sorry, sometimes I can't help myself sometimes" the woman apologized. "My name's Guinevere, but my friends call me Gwen. I'm a friend of Sergey's sister".

"Wait, you know Brenya?!" Theo exclaimed, not seeing his sister cursing silently over how quickly that information had been volunteered. "If you're a friend of Sergey and Brenya, then you're a friend of mine! I'm Theo and this is my big sister Riley".

"It's nice to meet you both" Gwen replied enthusiastically, exchanging a silent nod with Riley. "Well I'm sure you're both eager to see the patient".

Gwen propped the door open and let the siblings into the small hospital room. Inside, a short bedridden boy with a mat of messy black hair and an IV sticking into his arm sprung to attention with a smile across his face.

"Theo!" Sergey called enthusiastically, but somewhat weakly as he let out a cough from raising his voice.

Theo raced and plopped down on the bedside of his friend before wrapping his arms around him. As Sergey let out a soft giggle, the two locked lips and shared a short kiss. Gwen looked a little surprised by the outward show of affection, but Riley already knew about her little brother's preferences. No wonder he was so adamant about seeing Sergey…

"This is my sister Riley that you always hear me tell stories about" Theo exclaimed as Riley waved at the bedridden boy.

"Gweny!" Sergey indicated to Gwen, who approached his bed from the other side and hugged the boy gently. "I'm glad you're back! I hate it when those creepy people come to watch me".

"I'll try to be here as much as I can" Gwen stated firmly, ruffling the boy's hair playfully. "I need to track down that renegade sister of yours".

"You mean Brenya?" Theo exclaimed as Riley rubbed her hand against her arm cast nervously. "She saved me last night!"

"Please tell me more!" Gwen pleaded. "Is she ok?"

"She got roughed up a little bit, but she's otherwise fine" Riley interjected. "She stuck her neck out for my brother when he was attacked by some local bullies. We patched her up and let her crash at our place last night, but she left this morning".

"Do you have any idea where she might be headed?" Gwen asked, the desperation in her voice apparent. "She and Sergey are like family to me".

"I think she was looking for someone named Lonnie Jones" Theo answered. "She mentioned offhand something about asking around at a few local bars for information about him".

"What's going on with my sister, Gwen?" Sergey asked, his pale skin somehow looking even paler than normal.

"She is looking for a way to help you recover, but she might have gotten herself into a lot of trouble" Gwen replied with a half truth.

"Promise me you won't let anything bad happen to her" Sergey pleaded, taking Gwen's palm in his hand and staring at her with beady eyes.

"Cross my heart and hope to die" Gwen promised. "I'll do everything I can to keep her safe".

"You two seem really close" Riley remarked, earning a chuckle from Gwen.

"I supposed I have a thing for strays" Gwen laughed. "I met Sergey and his sister when they were in the gutter. I let them live with me for a while and like stray cats without a home, they always seem to find their way back to me".

"That's not very nice 'mom'" Sergey pouted, garnering a laugh from everyone in the room.

Riley looked away from the trio to the clock hanging above the door of the room. Looking shocked for a moment, she pulled her phone out to double check the time.

"We need to get you to your appointment Theo" Riley counseled after looking at the time on her phone. "Nice meeting you two!"

"Likewise" Gwen replied. "I really appreciate you looking out for Brenya like you did".

"Sure... " Riley muttered under her breath. "Don't make me regret telling you"...

* * *

Lonnie was sure that something was wrong. It couldn't have just been a coincidence that a shooting had occurred just a few doors away from his apartment right after he had stolen such a valuable haul. Someone had tracked him to his apartment. Due to the police investigation and yellow tape, he was put up in a hotel room last night. Under any normal circumstances a night in a nicer room than his would have been great, but worrying that his big score had been stolen out from under him was eating him away inside.

Realizing that pursuers were getting close to his trial, he grabbed all of his personal belongings and a few days worth of clothes to pack into his car. With his small apartment mostly empty, Lonnie quietly worked to unscrew the air vent and was relieved to see the two suitcases still hidden inside. Thinking on his feet, Lonnie assembled a contraption using the shower curtain rod from before, a bent metal hanger and some duct tape in order to retrieve the suitcases. As he dragged the two suitcases out of the vent using his makeshift grabber, he noticed that the acoustics of the metal shaft had changed. The vent had been opened from the other side, which was the same room the shooting occurred in! Paling slightly in freight, Lonnie hastily pulled the two cases out of the air vent without even bothering to refasten the vent grate. After a final quick check of his room, Lonnie hustled out the door with his two cases and hurriedly threw the briefcases in the backseat. Scanning the surrounding area briefly to ensure he wasn't followed, Lonnie still couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Deciding that keeping on the move was his best bet, Lonnie hoped in the driver's seat of his fully packed car and sped off towards a cheap motel on the other side of town.

Lonnie drove a lot calmer than he normally did in order to avoid getting pulled over by the police, but his mind still raced. He could have sworn that he wasn't followed home from the nightclub when he first nabbed the money! If he wasn't tailed, then how would they know where the money was? Lonnie opened the car's glove box as a pile of unpaid parking tickets spilled out from the top, checking to make sure that the revolver was still there. He prayed that he wouldn't need it...

* * *

Pulling his car into the motel parking lot and walking into the lobby to book a room, Lonnie stopped in his tracks when the woman just getting done checking in turned around.

"Well now, if it isn't a small world after all" Lonnie swaggered as Marisol stared pure malice at him. "If it isn't my little ray of sunshine!"

'What the fuck do you want Lonnie?" Mari replied, reaching slowly towards her waistline.

"Easy now princess, I couldn't truss you up and take you Mr. Nunzio even if I wanted to" Lonnie mocked. "I've just gotten done pissing him off as much as you have".

"Because that totally makes you trustworthy…" Mari muttered with no hint of sarcasm.

"Hey now, no need to get some standoffish!" Lonnie protested, physically blocking Mari's path as she tried to push past him. "I'll split a room with you if you don't mind the company. We can get some liquor and shoot the shit, just like the old days!"

"I know where that leads and I'm not interested" Mari responded firmly, pushing past him as he trailed close behind. "I've already bumped uglies with you enough times for one lifetime".

"Stop playing hard to get and admit that you liked it" Lonnie cooed as Mari quickly walked towards her room.

"The booger sugar was probably the only thing I enjoyed about it" Mari scoffed, turning to face Lonnie with a clenched fist. "Only a complete tool like you would be seeing three women at the same time".

"You miss every shot you don't take" Lonnie stated with a smug smile. "Wayne Gretsky".

As Mari unlocked the door to her room and turned to shoo away the oddly clingy man, she noticed that he was lugging around two large suitcases in each of his hands. She immediately recognized one of the suitcases from her time working in the cartel. While she may have dropped out of school in eight grade, Mari was more than smart enough to start connecting the dots.

"You know what Lonn…" Mari sighed, trying to act like his act had convinced her. "Getting hammered doesn't sound too bad right now. Even if it has to be with you. 60% for the room tonight, final offer".

"Done" Lonnie gleamed. "I'll go next door to get us some brews".

As Lonnnie walked back to his car, a mischievous smile found its way to Mari's face. She knew from experience that it'd wouldn't take more than a few brews and a quick roll in the hay to have Lonnie knocked out. Once he was out like a light, whatever was in that cartel case would be as good as hers…

* * *

As Viki climbed the stairs to her apartment after another day at the garage, she couldn't help but reminisce about the night before. While Viki did like to get around quite often in her spare time, she couldn't help but feel an unusual pull towards the mercurial Latin American woman. The two slept on the couch together after the combination of Fettuccine Alfredo and a movie on TV had Marisol out like a light. Viki wouldn't dare move and wake the cute girl from her slumber! Connor just gave her a knowing look and threw over a few blankets to keep his roommate warm.

With the part Mari's car needed arriving in the morning, it didn't take too long for the car to be repaired. The two girls barely had the time to exchange numbers before Mari said she needed to hit the road. And just like that, she was gone. Was it a good thing Mari was gone or did she long for her regardless of the danger?

Viki left her thoughts for a moment as she pulled the key from her pocket and went to unlock the door to the apartment but her hand merely found air…

Jolting to full attention and crouching slightly, Viki could now clearly see that the lock had been completely punched out from its cylinder. What the hell was going on here? Is Conner in trouble?

Viki reached for the door handle, but hesitated as her brain caught up with her instincts. Even if Conner was in danger, thrusting herself into harm's way as well could only make things worse. She should get the hell out of there and call the police. Creeping back from the door silently, Viki eye's never left the door as she backed away. Once she got at least ten paces away from the door, she turned and ran for the stairs…

Only to run into someone's arms who was waiting for her at the edge of the stairs. She half expected to see Connor behind her, but any chance of that quickly dissipated when she felt the cold barrel of a handgun gently pressed against her stomach.

"I believe we have business, Ms. Raynor" the man spoke in an almost emotionless monotone. "Can we discuss further in your apartment?"

Viki was marched down the short hallway and entered her apartment when the man opened the door for her. Indicating that she take a seat in one of the kitchen chairs with a point of his weapon, Viki sat down and finally had a chance to inspect her intruder. From what little skin was shown through his garments, the intruder appeared to be a man of Latin American descent. Aside from that, it was hard to gather anything. He was dressed in a black leather jacket with plain looking blue jeans. If it wasn't for the mask over his face and gloves on his hands, he could have been any other person that lived in Dale. A sparkle of light drew Viki's eyes to the lock cylinder laying on the other end of the kitchen floor. Her capture must have used a high grade pressure tool to punch the lock out. For better or worse, it looked like Connor wasn't home after all.

"What do you want?" Viki asked, trying to keep her cool. "If you want money, we don't have much".

"You think I'd rob people here if I wanted money?" the man replied, his voice without inflexion. "You do have something valuable to me though".

The man got up and walked to Viki's fridge, pulling out a can of soda.

"May I?" the man inquired.

Vikkie nodded her head yes. What, was she going to tell the man holding a gun at her that he couldn't?

"I know it's rude of me, but I am getting quite thirsty" the man explained as he walked with an unnervingly even pace to the table Viki sat in front of and took a seat of his own. "Your roommate is being led on a wild goose chase around town, so he won't be interrupting us. I also know he keeps a pistol in the second highest drawer of his nightstand, so please don't try anything we'll both regret".

Viki felt herself let out a breath she did not know she was holding as her capture set his firearm down on his side of the table, tantalizingly within Viki's reach. She knew better than to try it if she didn't have to. The act didn't seem careless. It was a deliberate ploy.

She soon found that the pistol was far from the only weapon on the other side of the table as her capture's steely gaze borrowed into her eyes. It was equal parts intensely focused and vicious, like a predator stalking its prey.

"I'm here for information that I know you have" the man monotoned. "Every lie you tell me will be one more finger broken on your younger sister's hands".

"What have you done with her?!" Viki barked back as the man pressed a finger to his mouth and shushed her.

"Nothing yet" the man said, drumming his fingers along the handle to the pistol. "But I'll personally head to 273 West Cathedral Boulevard myself to do the honors if you're not cooperative".

Viki felt the blood drain from her face. How did this man know her family's address and that she cared about her sister more than anything? Did he just assume the last part? How much did he really know?

"You should be threatening me, you monster" Viki hissed. "Do you have any compassion at all?"

"The oldest trick in the book hunh?" the man chuckled as if pretending he found what Viki said was funny. "Too bad its clinically proven that I don't have any empathy to spare".

Viki began growing uncomfortable when she realized that the man had not blinked at all this entire time. The gaze of this self-admitted sociopath was suffocating…

"Let's not waste anymore time and get through what I know" the man insisted. "Your full name is Victoria Rayner. Your single dad and sister live together. You work in your uncle's garage. You and your roommate nearly had a kid together, but you lost it prematurely. And you helped a woman named Marisol Ibanez at your garage yesterday afternoon and today".

"How…" Viki stammered, feeling like she was being read like an open book.

"Your family and medical records weren't hard to get" the man mocked."Same with your employment. One look through your social media was enough to figure out that your sister is your favorite. A quick scan of the documentation for the apartment complex was enough to figure out the locks. And once I got word about the confrontation you had with the boys yesterday, tapping the security camera recordings wasn't very hard either".

"You're with the cartel?" Viki asked with growing concern.

"I suppose I could say both yes and no" the man answered, faking another chuckle. "All I want to know is where Marisol is headed".

"Are you going to hurt her?" Viki asked with growing concern? As much as she didn't want to stab Mari in the back, she couldn't let this man hurt her sister.

"No" the man answered back. "I want to see if she'll help me. We both want the same thing after all".

"I find that hard to believe…" Viki muttered under her breath.

"She wants the cartel off her back and so do I, in a certain manner of speaking" the man quipped, his fingers on his pistol's grip. "So what'll it be?"

* * *

Mari felt a rush of lightheadedness hit her as she gulped down another slug of cheap rum and passed it back to Lonnie for him to follow suit. Lonnie had an arm wrapped around Mari as the two sat on the bed together and watched the hockey that Lonnie insisted he turn on. Lonnie's arm was warm and tender around Mari's waist, gently encouraging closeness instead of forcing it. While Mari knew deep down that Lonnie was a fuck up, that didn't mean he lacked an endearing side.

"I don't mind the bob cut and the hair dye" Lonnie started with a hiccup at the end. "But I miss your long, curly brown locks".

"Since when did you get a say in how I look?" Mari quipped defiantly in a playful tone as Lonnie slugged back more rum. "What would you say if I forced you to shave that fuzzy caterpillar off your lip?"

"It depends on what I'd get in return" Lonnie smirked, passing the liquor back to Mari.

Mari took a small sip from the bottle before handing it to Lonnie.

"Go ahead and finish the rest" Mari insisted. "No point in trying to outdrink a lanky fuck like you".

"If you insist, shortie" Lonnie chuckled as he proceeded to hammer back the last of the fifth of rum. "Wanna have some fun like old times?"

A small smile snuck onto Mari's face again, with Lonnie smiling in return. He was playing right into her hands.

"Well, since you asked nicely…" Mari whispered seductively, pulling Lonnie closer and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

To say that Mari was not a patient lover would be an understatement. Within seconds of their lips parting, Manari was pulling her jacket and undershirt off her body. Lonnie frantically tugged his shirt off and tossed it into the quickly accumulating pile of clothes in the middle of the room. He knew from experience that if he didn't take his shirt off quick, it was getting torn off. She even shredded his favorite collared shirt one time!

Mari's cheeks flushed red as Lonnie took the sight of her in. As their eyes met, Mari's quickly darted away to avoid contact. For all of Mari's tomboyish bravado and occasionally volatile anger, Lonnie had known her for long enough to know about the nervous and occasionally self conscious side.

"Are you ok?" Lonnie asked with genuine concern, cupping a gentle hand around her sharp cheekbone. Maybe he hadn't been the best to her over the years, but he had to at least try to help with whatever was bothering her so suddenly.

It's safe to say that Lonnie didn't expect Mari to let out an ear piercing cry and punch the wall behind the bed with enough force to crack the drywall. As the initial shock died down, Lonnie noticed a few errant tears rolling off of Mari's face.. While he'd set up this outing with purely selfish motives in mind, he couldn't help but feel worried for the distraught hothead. It honestly made him feel that much more like a dirtbag himself deep down.

"It's ok… I've got you…" Lonnie whispered as he embraced her.

"I can't do this Lonn" Mari whimpered, the waterworks ceasing for the time being.

"Do what?" he asked back.

"I can't live like this" Mari began, finally meeting Lonnie's eyes. "Running from town to town, avoiding the cartel and the law. Once I realized the price being in the cartel has on you, I knew I needed out".

"I realized that pretty quickly after I started dealing" Lonnie chuckled. "I know that from experience, there's no such thing as being one hundred percent out. Risk takers like us will always need to thrill or the cartel will never be free of a need for your services".

"Two days ago I met this beautiful auto mechanic who helped get my lemon back on the road" Mari elaborated. "I think a mutual attraction was there, but I couldn't get to know her for more than a day since I needed to keep on the run. When I tried to get in the mood, all I could think about is how I'm going to miss her. That made me think this life on the run will be my existence now and makes me feel empty inside…"

As Lonnie peered into Mari's cognac eyes, he could tell that what she said came from the heart. He wouldn't have guessed Mari was bi given their intermittent intimacy, but he could see it now that it was laid bare before him. Lonnie hugged her a little tighter. He wanted to tell her about his haul so badly, to let her imagine a world where he could whisk her away to a life of luxury. But he knew deep down that she wouldn't be happy with him and that introducing her to his getaway plan would be too risky. The hole in the wall behind him was a testament to that.

"I bought another fifth at the store" Lonnie said, wobbling slightly drunkenly to his feet. "Let's get dressed and drown our sorrows away".

With their clothes partially back on, the two cuddled close again and took turns chugging from the bottle. Lonnie realized that he was starting to feel a bit drowsy…

Without warning, the crack of a gunshot cut through the silence as the old motel lock was blown completely off the door. As an intruder kicked the door open and raised a shotgun at the duo on the bed, Lonnie pulled the revolver from his waistline and retorted with a shot of his own. As the shot grazed the side of the intruder, Lonnie instinctively pushed Mari off of the bed and flailed after her as another blast from the shotgun echoed loudly in the cramped room and shredded the thin door to the motel bathroom.

Lonnie let out a pained grunt as he fell on top of Mari on the floor, having been hit in the side by some of the buckshot spray. Either through sheer willpower, the alcohol dulling the pain or both, Lonnie maintained consciousness and fired back two shots at the intruder near the doorway. One of the shots struck the masked intruder in the calf, causing him to fall to the ground and howl out in pain. Mari pulled herself out from under Lonnie and kicked the shotgun away from the crippled man. With the two other men in the room down and the sound of other motel patrons screaming outside, Mari hurriedly threw herself towards the two suitcases in the back of the room and lifted each up with one hand.

"Don't you dare!" Lonnie howled, raising his revolver at Mari.

Mari thoughtlessly dashed for the open door, with a shot Lonnie fired nearly striking her arm. The sound of the bullet nearly hitting her caused her to drop one of the cases as she ran, with pure adrenaline and fear compelling her to not try to retrieve it as she sprinted madly towards her car. Lonnie picked himself off the floor, grinding his teeth in pain as the multiple punctures in his chest oozed crimson. He slowly lurched to the doorway and drew his revolver at the fleeing girl, but the blood loss and alcohol were making him see triple. He blindly fired his remaining three shots at Mari as she fled, but all he managed was to shatter the windshields on a few other parked cars.

Mari frantically unlocked her car and flung the case in the back seat. Getting in the driver's seat and mashing the gas after the car started, Mari smashed her mirror against the car next to her. Undeterred by the potential hit and run, Mari threw the car into drive and began drunkenly veering down the highway away from the motel.

Lonnie cursed under his breath as Mari got away. Limping back to the doorway and retrieving the remaining case, Lonnie checked his pockets and was relieved to find his car keys were still there. As he moved to his car, another blast of the shotgun rang out in the cold night. Lonnie hit the deck instinctively, but was shocked when he heard one of the tires on his car exploded.

"Son of a bitch!" Lonnie cried out as he saw the assailant in the black mask on one leg in the doorway of the motel room, having used the wall to drag himself upright.

As the man pumped the action of his boomstick, Lonnie lunged at the man and swung his remaining suitcase at him. The strike caused the follow up shot to be deflected up towards the ceiling and knocked the would be assailant to the ground once again.

Unfortunately, Lonnie felt a tearing pain in his abdomen as a result of the lunge and winced in pain. With his car no longer operable after the tire was punctured, Lonnie knew he was in trouble. He couldn't call 911 for emergency assistance, since they would obviously ask questions about the suitcase he was lugging around. Despite knowing an underground place that he could receive treatment at, the fact that his car was useless limited his options. Anyone he knew to call would either take too long to get to him, would not be trustworthy, or both. After making sure the assailant in the room was momentarily incapacitated, Lonnie began dragging himself towards the road to potentially flag down strangers…

* * *

"...and so that's the story about how I got the scar on my chest and knocked a guy out at a figuring skating contest" Neil laughed as he drove his father's old van down the two lane road on the outskirts of town.

"That's a ten out of ten" Max replied, a stunned look on his face. "The story, not your performance".

"Says you!" Neil sneered. "Going for a long evening drive really is therapeutic. Thanks for suggesting it".

"No problem" Max replied solemnly. Anything would be good if it could help Neil get his mind off his lost money.

"What the hell?!" Neil cried as he slammed on the brakes. "That guy on the side of the road came out of nowhere!"

"Wait a minute… is that the guy from the poker table?" Max pondered.

Sure enough, the man from the poker table named Lonnie limping along the side of the road and tightly gripping his side. His other hand carried a large suitcase and Max could see a gun hastily stuffed along his beltline. Despite his efforts to put pressure on the wounds, the two students could see the blood seeping down the side of his chest and his pant leg.

"Help… please…" Lonnie muttered as Max got out of the passenger's seat and opened the sliding door for the man. Max lay an old blanket from the trunk along the rear seat and eased the man onto it, taking the suitcase with him as he got back in the car.

"You need us to go to the hospital man?" Neil inquired, getting a nodding no from Lonnie.

"No, take me to 8th and Academy" Lonnie groaned, barely clinging on to consciousness.

"Trying to stay away from the law, are you?" Max asked rhetorically. "I knew something was fishy about you since the poker game".

Curiosity finally getting the better of him, Max popped the locks of the suitcase and was met with the sight of stacks of hundred dollar bills.

"Stop the car Neil" Max said authoritatively.

"What?" Neil questioned. "He's in serious trouble Maxi!"

"I said stop the damn car, Neil" Max reiterated, causing Neil to sigh and slam on the brakes.

Max slammed the suitcase shut and turned to face the wounded man in the back seat.

"Look, the fact that you're carrying this much money around with you and won't go to the hospital is making me think that you deal in some shady shit" Max began, rubbing his finger against his temple. "Us helping you is a pretty big risk, if I don't say so myself. You're going to have to make it worth our while if you want our help".

"Fuck you, you islander cunt" Lonnie growled.

"That's Mestizo Tagalog cunt, you uncultured hack" Max retorted. "My buddy and I get $500,000 each if you want our help".

"And what if I just kill, take the car and keep all the money?" Lonnie retorted, pulling the empty cylinder revolver from his waistline.

"My buddy and I won't go down without a fight" Max countered. "Assuming Neil doesn't throw the keys into the woods before you can cap both of us, I'm willing to bet you're too weak to make it to your underground doctor before you succumb to your injuries. $500,000 each is my final offer. Be happy that we're not asking for all of it".

A tense silence permeated the van for a few seconds, with the only sound on the quiet road the constant puttering of the van's engine. Lonnie eventually let out a pained sigh. The kid drove a good bargain.

"Fine, you have a deal…" Lonnie muttered, shaking his head in disgust.

"Pleasure doing business with you" Max said as he high fived Neil. "Step on it Neil!"

The van came roaring back to life and tore down the highway towards the address Lonnie had given as Neil began counting money and putting it in each of the student's backpacks…

* * *

"God dammit!" Mari howled, pounding her fist into the steering wheel and blaring her horn at no one in particular. "Of course I grabbed the wrong case!"

Instead of the money that she expected, the case she stole contained vials of a strange orange-red liquid. Mari hadn't even made it through eighth grade, so how was she supposed to figure out what she had? Why the fuck did Lonnie even have this junk anyway?

Steaming with pure white hot anger, Mari decided to throw caution to the wind and run the red light she was waiting at. Across street sat a man in a white van, enjoying a delicious McCluckenburg Double Cluck and fries after a long day of gathering public records on his two most recent bounties.

"Wait a minute" Manny muttered to himself, his chicken sandwich still halfway in his mouth. "That's the right make and license plate…"

Throwing the car into drive, Manny's truck sped out of the fast food restruant's parking lot and after the sedan that just sped by…

* * *

"Where the hell is Cortez?" Commissioner Green yelled at the other deputies unfortunate enough to be within earshot. "Did the kid sleep in or something?"

As he surveyed the Sunny Days Motel crime scene, a black Ford Mustang pulled into the parking lot and a African American man in a black and white striped polo shirt emerged. Green was about to tell the man off until he pulled out his badge.

"I'm Steven Krane" Stephen declared. "I'm with the FBI on the Oasis nightclub shooting case".

"Great to have you on board" Green gleamed, shaking Steven's hand. "It's nice to know I have at least one compotent person on the case…"

Steven's phone began to ring, with a familiar number appearing on the screen. Steven waved off the frustrated commissioner and answered the call.

"Hey Steven, it's Felix Nast" Felix confirmed. "Any updates on the opening you interviewed me for?""

"Get into the police office as soon as you can" Steven replied. "You're starting today…"

* * *

That's it for this update everyone! Sorry this chapter is late for the end of March deadline. I was studying for a certification I needed for my career until 3/17 and then work started to blow up after the COVID-19 outbreak. Though I'm thankful to still be employed, both pressure from work and working from home have thrown things out of sorts for me. If the response to this chapter is good I may try to get a second (shorter) update out during April. Next time I plan to spend more time with Felix, Steven, Manny and Lily, along with briefly checking back in with Brenya and Lonnie. Until next time, this is Laxersword88 signing off!


	5. Chapter 5: Breadcrumbs

Hi everyone, Lazersword88 here. I'm looking to get Where Dead Men Walk back on its monthly release schedule, so be on the lookout for more installments soon. I hear you guys when you say you can't wait until the undead come into play, but this pre-outbreak storyline is a tale I've wanted to tell since I came up with this story's concept. I did tighten some elements of the scripting to give you guys one less chapter of the first arc and another chapter once the outbreak begins. Speaking of a chapter plan, I have the broad story points for the entire fic drafted at this point. Some minor items may still be subject to change, but I'm happy with the plan. Instead of trying to squeeze four arcs into 25 chapters, I'm instead going to consolidate the third and fourth arcs to give the chapters a bit more room to breathe. As some of you may have heard in your conversations with me, I've also been constructing a master workbook to help keep this story organized. It should help keep things on track, in character and on schedule. Enough of me rambling though, let's get into this chapter…

* * *

As much as she tried to hide it, Shao was uncomfortable. The loud, raucous dive bar that she'd been dragged to wasn't the kind of place she'd frequent. Though she tried to be open to the thought of coming here, the eyes that pierced into her from every corner made her feel like a fish out of water.

"You sure you don't want me to buy you a drink?" Lily asked before taking a large gulp of her second screwdriver.

"No, I'm fine" Shao fibbed. "I'm your ride home, remember?"

"One drink is not going to kill ya, you holier than thou primadona!" the elder of the two replied. "Your anxiety is killing my mood. Don't ruin my one day off by being a scared little bitch".

"Fine" Shao relented. "Just one beer then".

"Atta girl" Lily gleamed, throwing an arm around Shao's waist forcefully and yanking the girl into a one arm embrace. "Yo barkeep! Get off your fat ass and get this bitch a brew!"

The barkeeper rolled his eyes as he poured the drink from the tap, having grown accustomed to the mother of one's vulgarity. Sliding the beer down to Shao and taking Lily's money, a self satisfied smile slowly proved contagious as Shao let out a reserved chuckle.

"Loosen up a little" Lily requested, clinking glasses with Shao.

"I'm just not used to all… this…" Shao said, vaguely indicating to all around the smokey cavern.

"Well I really fucking appreciate you being here for me" Lily spilled before slamming back more of her drink. "As much as I love Damian, sometimes I need a goddamn break. It's the only thing that cheating, two timing son of a fuck ex-boyfriend is good for anyways".

Shao sat at the bar stool in silence as her smile slowly dissipated. She made small talk with Lily and sipped her beer as her coworker hammered back drink after drink. While Shao knew from experience that Lily held her liquor well, she was starting to seem a little woozy after her fifth mixed drink. As Lily became less sober, Shao could feel the eyes on her even more. The feeling of being stalked gripped her, as if she was a gazelle in a field of lions. She wanted more than anything to get out there now, but could she really leave Lily here in her current state?

As if on queue, a rugged looking man in a biker jacket and tattoos strutted up to Shao. Shao let out a small squeak of discomfort as the man pulled her into his chest.

"Lily brought us a cutie this time" the lecherous man complimented.

"Not interested" Shao snapped, shoving the man off her.

"Come on jelly rolls, I'm the best guy you can hope to get" the man snickered, stepping towards Shao as she backed away.

"Leave her alone Paul…" Lily drunkenly threatened, but tripped and fell to the ground when she attempted to get to her feet.

"I need to go to the bathroom" Shao lied, scurrying off towards the back of the establishment.

"Bullshit" Paul growled, knocking over Shao's partially full beverage and stalking after her.

Shao pushed her way through the smokey room and into the women's restroom. The room smelled dank and the floor was sticky from more than just alcohol. As she slammed the graffiti covered stall door behind her, Shao could hear the depravity of this place first-hand from the stall next to her.

A wet slurping sound echoed around the small room that left little to the imagination. A man stood over the woman sitting on the toilet in the next stall, letting out low moans of pleasure. The woman's sweatshirt and bra lay on the ground so close to the stall divider that Shao could grab them.

"You're so good…" the man muttered. "I'd rat on anyone for brain like this".

At that moment the restroom door burst open and loud footsteps approached Shao's stall.

"Alright wonton, time to come out" Paul growled, bashing on Shao's stall door as Shao trembled in fear.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the woman from the other stall demanded, pushing past her fellow occupant and opening the door to her stall.

"What's it to you, whore?" Paul angrily demanded. "How about you mind your own…"

Shao heard a massive crack and then saw Paul's large frame splay all over the ground in a state of unconsciousness. Seeing the body did cause Shao to squeak in fear again. She didn't want to open the door. Who knows, this woman could be just as bad as her stalker? A moment later, Shao heard a knock on the door.

"Are you ok?" a soft and almost sisterly voice inquired. "I won't let anybody hurt you".

Hopeful that the book was as innocent as it's cover, Shao slowly opened the door and saw a short pale skinned girl with dark black hair. Her features were soft aside from her mangled nose and her eyes conveyed genuine worry. She was topless, with an unbuttoned maroon dress hanging slack around her hips.

"Sorry about how I look" the girl apologized, picking up her sweatshirt to dab off the stains from her face and cleavage before refastening her bra.

Shao flung her arms around her savior without reservation and crushed her with a big bear hug, startling the shorter girl and nearly knocking her backwards. While the girl looked a little frazzled, she was warm to the touch and had soft skin. Shao loved snuggling with people who were warm and cozy as long as they kept things platonic.

"Thank you…" Shao muttered from the safety of her rescuer's shoulder.

"Don't mention it" Brenya replied, not trying to rush the girl but also trying to get the girl away from the situation.

"While this is touching and all, we had a deal" the cartel man who was in the stall with the girl interrupted. "I told you about Lonnie Jones, so now you need to finish what you started and get me off".

"Can it wait 5 minutes?" Brenya asked in an annoyed tone. "Don't you see this girl is scared to death?"

"Who fuckin cares about her?" the man hissed. "I think youz is trying to walk out on me. Now you'd better…"

Brenya broke away from Shao's hug and soccer kicked the man directly in his exposed groin. As he fell to his knees in pain, Brenya grabbed him by the head and shoved his face in the toilet bowl of the stall he had emerged from.

"Let's get you out of here" Brenya urged, leading Shao by the hand out of the bathroom.

Once they reached the bar table, Shao retrieved Lily and slung her over her shoulder to help lead her to Shao's car. Brenya walked the duo all the way back to their car to make sure no one followed them out of the bar. Given that she just assaulted a member of the cartel, she thought she should get out of there too…

A hand grabbed Brenya from behind and pulled her into a nearby alley. At first Brenya thought she was being attacked, but she knew who it was when she was pulled into her second bear hug of evening.

"I thought you had more important things to do than go bar hopping, snow flower" the lumbering ebony skinned woman whispered. "You smell horrible by the way".

"Gwen?!" Brenya exclaimed as Gwen put a hand over Brenya's mouth to muffle her. Brenya's fight or flight instincts began triggering. Was Gwen here to capture her and bring her to Father Roland?

"Calm down" Gwen whispered motherly, removing her hand covering Brenya's mouth. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just need to know what happened during the exchange and what you're doing now. Father Roland, your brother and I are all worried sick about you. Some members of the church think you've gone rogue on us".

"I was trying to find information about Lonnie Jones," Brenya answered, meeting Gwen's serious gaze. "With a little persuasion, I got what I needed".

"Lonnie Jones?" Gwen parroted. "He's the local street hustler, right? I've heard of him, but I still don't understand why he's that important".

"Looks like I have a lot to explain…" Brenya sighs as she leans against the back wall of the alley…

* * *

Manny pulled over to the side of the road under the cover of darkness and put his van in park. His 'work' van was equipped with racks lined with the weapons he would need for any situation and various equipment he needed to restrain his marks. Picking out his favorite designated marksman rifle and smiling with satisfaction, Manny hopped out of the car. He could hit an apple off someone's head with this thing from a quarter mile out. Having tracked Marisol Ibanez to this public park, not spooking his target would give him the best chance of capturing her alive. It was unlikely that she knew she had been tailed, though Manny did wonder why the cartel runaway seemed in such a hurry to get wherever she was going. It also seemed odd that the girl would choose to bed down for the night in the middle of a park by herself rather than stay somewhere safer like a hotel. Either way, not having to deal with witnesses made his life easier.

As he crept through the darkened foliage, the man some people called Lui contemplated on whether he wanted to take the mark dead or alive. Killing her wouldn't affect his reward and would eliminate any chance of her escaping, but another kill added to his tally might weigh on whatever conscious he has left. Not that it has stopped him in the past. He'd never hesitated when it was the gangsters who took his best friend's life or the towel heads his sergeants told him to cut down 'for the sake of the free world'. Nevermind him avenging his friend got a man he considered an older brother a life sentence. Or that all of the killing and oppressing he did of a foreign people just lined the pockets of his corrupt superiors. Though he occasionally worked within the law now, he'd still take the jobs that would offer him the most money.

Slowly pushing out of the foliage and into a clearing in the park, Manny saw the car he had tailed parked alone in the unlit lot. Keeping a low profile and his rifle at the ready, Manny slowly crept towards the car. As the wind softly whisked through the trees flanking to lot, Manny looked through his rifle's scope and realized that the driver's seat of his target car was empty. Did she know she was being followed? Manny concisely turned and eyed his surroundings in a frantic fashion. After checking in various spots, he thought he heard a russell near the foliage he emerged from. With his rifle at the ready, he sprinted towards the source of the noise and pushed through the branches.

"Put your hands where I can see... " Manny began.

"Eeeeeaaakkk!" Mari shrieked, panicking and falling backwards.

Manny quickly realized that Marisol had gone into the woods to relieve herself. He had caught her with her pants and drawers around her ankles, which caused her to trip. Accidentally catching a glimpse of the compromising scene, Manny's face flushed red as he looked away slightly.

"Please get your damn pants on!" Manny demanded. "I'm here to bring you in, but I'm not into that sick shit".

"I ain't going out without a…" Mari began before being stopped in her tracks by Manny training his rifle on her. "Fuck…"

After Mari redressed, Manny pinned her hands behind her back and used a zip tie to restrain them. Manny then frisked Mari's pockets and took the contents. A fake drivers license, multiple stolen credit cards and a strap of throwable pocket knives were the most interesting things he found on her person. Leading her by the arm and pushing the growling girl along, Manny led the two Mari's car in hopes of finding anything else of value. Fortunately, his hunch bore fruit.

"Don't you dare try to run off" Manny commanded as he let go of his grip on Mari's arm. "The bounty is dead or alive, so I'll get paid anyway".

"You know they'll just kill me as soon as you turn me in, right?" Mari deadpanned through grit teeth, surveying her surroundings to weigh her chance of actually surveying trying to make a break for it.

"I don't get a say in the end, but I wouldn't kill a little cutie like you" Manny flirted, giving Mari a wink.

"You have a habit of kidnapping innocent women like me?" Mari countered.

"Ain't nothing about you innocent senorita" Mannny chucked, continuing his search of the car.

After pulling the valuables out of Mari's stolen car, it became abundantly clear why Nunzio and the cartel wanted to track her down. Manny found a backpack with twenty thousand dollars and at least two dozen kilos of cocaine hidden under a plastic cover in the car's trunk. This girl likely turned on her fellow cartelmen during a drug deal. What didn't seem to fit in was the suitcase that Manny found in the passenger's seat. When Manny opened the suitcase, he saw a series of well insulated vials of red liquid.

"The fuck is in these vials?" Manny demanded, taking the rifle slung by a strap of his shoulder and pointing it towards his captive.

"No idea," Mari answered. "I stole the case thinking it was money".

"Who'd you take this from?" Manny inquired in turn.

"I stole it off a guy named Lonnie Jones" Mari replied, with Manny raising an eyebrow with piqued interest.

"No kidding!" Manny chuckled. "He's another bounty on my list. You know where he is?"

"Why the fuck would I tell you that?" Mari gawked, careful not to fly into a fly rage with a rifle still pointed in her general direction.

"He's worth more money than you are" Manny explained. "Maybe I could help you cut some kind of deal with Nunzio if you help me bring him in".

"Like I'd believe that!" Mari scowled, puffing her chest out in a very boyish way. "I'd be a fool to take you on your word when you hold all the cards".

"Fair enough" Manny shrugged. "I'll just bring you in and then deal with Lonnie after".

Manny drove the stolen car to his van and deposited all of the valuables in the back. He then restrained Mari further by handcuffing her to the seat handle of her chair. Reclining back into the driver's seat, Manny picked up his cell phone and made a call. After a few minutes of ringing, the groggy cartel don picked up the phone.

"Whatcha want Lui?" Nunzio muttered sleepily. "Don't you know it's late?"

"I captured Marisol Ibanez alive," the bounty hunter replied, looking in the back seat and seeing Mari furiously trying to pull off her restraints like a rabid animal. "She's a feisty one".

"Excellent work!" Nunzio exclaimed, now seemingly awake. "I'll get one of my men to meet you at the dropoff point. I'll make sure to throw in a little bonus for how fast you tracked her down".

"I appreciate that," Manny gleamed. "On another note, I found a cartel style suitcase on her. It had vials with dark red liquid in them. You happen to know anything about that?"

An uncomfortable moment of silence lingered for so long that Manny had to check to make sure the call wasn't dropped.

"So that bitch was the one who fucked up my big deal…" Nunzio said to himself, probably thinking that he spoke softly enough for Manny not to hear him. "Yeah, those chems were part of a deal that went south from a few days ago. Did you happen to find another suitcase along with it?"

"Nah, I searched her car thoroughly but didn't find anything else" Manny replied, trying to make sense of Nunzio's musings.

"If you're lying to me,I'll have my boys break your fucking kneecaps" Nunzio threatened. "Jesus, this is all one huge mess now ain't it… I'll give you five hundred thousand dollars for the case".

"Consider it done" Manny replied coolly, trying to act professional but wanting to jump with joy with dollar signs in his eyes.

"That's my boy!" Nunzio replied ecstatically. "Any word on Lonnie?"

"Marisol crossed his path" Manny replied, looking back to see the girl staring at him wide eyed and slack jawed. "She claims that who she stole the case with the chems from".

"So then Lonnie probably still has the other case" Nunzio sneered. "In that case, I'm raising Lonnie's bounty to one million dollars. Turn the girl and case you have in tonight. Then see if you track our other problem child down too".

"Understood" Manny replied as he ended the call.

Manny fist pumped the air with uncommon excitement. Who knew that tonight would result in such a huge payday? As he turned his key in the ignition, his phone began to ring. Picking up the phone and looking at the screen, Manny saw that the call was coming from an unregistered number. Is Nunzio trying to call him back?

"Hello?" Manny asked, answering the phone.

"Don't bring the girl to Nunzio and the cartel" an intentionally distorted voice replied.

"Who the fuck are you?" Manny quizzed. "I'm afraid I don't know anyone named Nunzio".

"Don't lie to me Manny" the voice droned. "I tapped your conversation with Nunzio a moment ago, so you'll find I'm up to speed your involvement in this. I can offer you three million dollars if you bring the girl and chemicals to me".

"You think I'm a fool or something?" Manny questioned. "Why would I accept offers from an unvalidated source when I at least know Nunzio has the money to pay me?"

"Because he's ripping you off," the voice continued. "Nunzio didn't tell you that those chemicals you found were lost in a drug deal gone wrong at The Oasis last Friday night. Nunzio was selling the drugs you have in your possession for five million dollars. By giving them back to Nunzio, you are only getting 10% of their value".

"Bad move buddy" Manny chuckled. "Now I can just find Lonnie and take 100% of the cut for myself".

"I wouldn't do that if I were you" the voice threatened. "Or do you want your partner in crime Amalia to get hurt. I know the two of you live at 254 Limestone Court".

"If anything happened to her, I'll ride you down" Manny growled through clenched teeth.

"That won't be necessary if you just work with me" the voice concluded. "Everyone wins if you work with me. You get paid, your girlie stays safe, Mari doesn't die and I get what I want. Meet me behind the convenience store on 14th street tomorrow morning at 10 AM".

As the anonymous caller hung up the phone, Manny stared into the night sky blankly. As much as Manny didn't want to cartel after him too, he couldn't risk his girl in the chair Amelia being hurt. The money would be fantastic if it was really, but this entire thing was a lot more high risk than Manny would have liked. Even if everything the anonymous caller said was true, how did they plan to track down Lonnie and get the money? How could they even be sure Lonnie had the money? This was going to be a long couple of days…

* * *

Arturo put down the phone, satisfied with how his plan was progressing. The soon to be ex-police forensic investigator sat in his hotel room, finishing the stitching to close his open wound. Fortunately, Lonnie's bullet passed through his leg harmessly without damaging any bones or tendons. It did still hurt like all hell though. Arturo did keep medical supplies on hand to dress his wounds in the event that something like this would happen, but he needed this quiet time to properly patch himself up. Taking a needle from the table next to him and using his teeth to help uncap it, he jammed the syringe into his flesh and bit back the pain as he injected the pain killing substance.

What the other fools chasing after the two suitcases from the failed transaction didn't know was that there was a GPS tracker built into the suitcase that the cartel had used to transfer the chemical vials for the exchange. Did those idiots really think that the cartel would attempt such a high value transaction without a backup plan? Nunzio trusted only a few of his subordinates with this information, but this fortunately included Arturo. As Nunzio's newest mole in the Dale police force, the cartel boss had ample reason to keep Nunzio informed. Arturo had been there on Nunzio's orders the night of the failed transaction and was tasked by the boss to track down the two lost cases too. The police would be all over Nunzio and the cartel had it not been for Arturo expertly altering and concealing the evidence at the Oasis nightclub crime scene.

Arturo was far from one of Nunzio's cronies. He has his own plans, but still needs to maintain the delicate balance of feigning hollow loyalty to the cartel if he is to achieve what he wants. The key to Arturo's plan is the briefcase of money from the Church of Blood that Arturo confirmed was in Lonnie's possession during their encounter. Arturo had been stalking the charismatic street rat for the last few days now. Using the GPS tracker, Arturo had tracked the cases to Lonnie's apartment but invaded the wrong room of the two connected by the air vent. With the police on the way, Arturo had to postpone his plan and feign maintaining his responsibilities as a police investigator. Fortunately, his skill set allowed Arturo to scrub any evidence of his involvement out of the crime scene.

Yesterday he watched on the GPS tracker as the suitcases moved to the cheap motel on the outskirts of town. After hearing about Marisol Ibanez's bounty and the confrontation some of the cartel men had outside of Raynor Auto Body, Arturo managed to get his hands on the security camera footage from the auto shop thanks to some good old fashioned breaking and entering. Determining that Marisol had been corresponding with the owner's niece Viki Raynor, Arturo broke into Viki's apartment in order to find out Marisol's location. Marisol will be willing to help with his plan after some convincing, so tracking down the runaway criminal would be the next logical step.

Arturo's plan was to track the briefcase thief to their hotel room and retrieve the cases by any means. In the resulting chaos, he also hoped to capture Marisol alive in order to facilitate the final stages of his plan. What Arturo did not account for was the fact that Marisol and Lonnie had opted to stay together in the same room. While he knew the two had some kind of physical relationship when both were with the cartel, he had not anticipated that they would be willing to bed together if their paths crossed. Not afforded enough time to convince Marisol to work with him, Arturo's plan went sideways when the two suitcases were separated by Marisol fleeing the scene.

Then there was the matter of the bullet wound that he had just finished treating. Without significant time to clean the scene after being wounded, Arturo's fingerprints were all over an active crime scene. With it only being a matter of time before the police would be looking for him, Arturo was forced to expedite his plan. Fortunately, the bounty hunter Manny De'leon tracked Marisol down and the phone tap he placed on Nunzio's personal line allowed him to intercept the call. Marisol would not only be a huge help in what Arturo had planned, but she was the only chance he had of tracking down Lonnie and the lost money. The same money that was the cornerstone of his plan.

Arturo laid back in his chair and opened his laptop. He would need to thoroughly check the records he had collected if he wanted a golden parachute later on...

* * *

Taking another excessively large bite out of his McCluckenburg cheeseburger, Niel swayed from side to side to music as he drove along the empty street. What remarkable luck! With this new cash, his dreams of moving back home to Sweden could soon be realized! This was a cause for celebration! Despite his desire to celebrate, Max remained pensive in the seat beside him. Niel wondered why his classmate refused to celebrate like he did.

"What's with the long face man?" Niel yelled over the loud music. "We just scored it big?"

"Being honest with you man, I'm wondering what my mom would think of all this" Max answered truthfully. "What would she think if she ever found out about tonight? Am I going to have to lie to her and say I won it in a lottery? How do we know this guy won't survive his injuries and come after us?"

"Don't worry about it man!" Niel urged, bumping Max's shoulder.

"Take me home Neil" Max requested.

"What, why?!" Neil demanded, turning off the music. "I thought you asked for less money to avoid some of the risk".

"I'm not trying to fucking argue Neil, just take me home" Max demanded. "This money just created a lot for us to have to sort out. Have you thought at all about how you are going to store and protect that money, especially since a person with criminal connections could be coming after us?"

Neil sat in silence for a few moments as he drove the van towards Max's dorm. His thinking was just too by the book sometimes! He lacked ambition and the willingness to take risks. His strict traditional upbringing in the Philippines probably didn't help his outlook now. The more Neil thought about it, the more he felt the need to show Max up and prove his cowardice wrong.

As Neil pulled into the parking lot of Max's dorm, he turned to his friend with a mischievous smile on his face.

"I'm going back and taking the rest of that gambler's money for myself!" Neil proclaimed.

"You're going to what?" Max snapped as he felt his stomach drop.

"You heard me," Neil boasted. "If you're so stuck in your feelings that you're paralyzed, I'll show you that we could have gotten even more money if you'd just been more daring".

"Neil, that's the stupidest idea I've ever heard you come up with!" Max choked. "First off, you're a gangly uncoordinated college dofus and there are obviously organized criminals vying for this money. Secondly, Lonnie knows you're a threat and won't let his guard down a second time. You have a death wish if you go through with this".

"You'll be sorry when I'm rolling in paper" Neil teased, bringing the car to a stop.

"This is beyond irrational" Max pleaded. "You already have enough money to pay off your loans, move back to Sweden and buy a house! Don't fuck it up chasing more dirty money like a dumb shit".

"But if I get the rest of the money, I'll never have to work again" Neil rationionalized, earning a groan from Max as he opened the door.

"If you're so determined to get yourself killed, then leave me out of it" Max stated, about ready to slam the door. "Oh and when they have you hooked up to the torture device, you better not mention my damn name".

"Well fuck you then, you fucking fuck!" Neil cursed, throwing the van into reverse and speeding away from the complex. "I'll show him!"

* * *

After telling Gwen everything that had happened, Brenya was able to convince her surrogate big sister to follow the lead on Lonnie Jones. In turn, Brenya allowed Gwen to relay the information back to Stein and Father Roland in order for the church to use its resources to find leads on the scoundrel. If the two were able to get closer to finding Lonnie, that would make Brenya's explanation upon returning to the church much simpler. As Gwen turned a corner in her crew cab pickup truck, her phone in the cup holder began to ring.

"Hello this is Gwen" the large woman greeted as she answered her phone. "...wait, you can't be serious! … that's excellent news! We're on our way".

"Who was that?" Brenya asked, staring at the illuminated buildings that the duo drove by.

"You're not going to believe this, but Lonnie Jones just checked in at one of the underground doctors affiliated with the church". Gwen reported, with Brenya practically hearing the smile on her 'sister's' face. "He has a pretty bad gunshot wound".

"This is the break we needed!" Brenya gleamed, hugging the motherly figure around the waist in glee.

"Let's get going then" Gwen replied, rubbing a hand through Brenya's hair affectionately. "We're saving your brother…"

* * *

"So anyways, I heard there was a really good new sandwich shop on main street" a church of blood guard said to his partner as the two stood outside and smoked.

"What's it called?" the second tough asked. "I'd much rather be having a sandwich than be on lookout. This is so boring…"

"You heard Father Roland" the first goon began. "This 'doctor' paid protection money, so we're here to do the protecting".

"Yea, yea…" the second tough moaned. "Does this sandwich place make a good cheesesteak?"

As the two Church of Blood thugs continued to talk about the sandwich shop, they failed to notice a presence in a nearby alley that crept closer.

"Aw yeah, just like Rambo…" Neil whispered to himself as he drew the string of a bow he had purchased at a thrift store a month ago and pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back.

Drawing the string back with all his strength, Neil leapt from his hiding spot and loosed the arrow in the direction of one one of the two guards…

...only for it to barely make it twenty feet away from where Neil had fired it. The angle of Neil's shot was also significantly off, with Neil missing his mark by a thirty degree angle.

"What the hell?" one of the goons yelled, drawing his sidearm. "Get your fucking hands up!"

"AAAUUUGGGGHHH!" was the battle cry that Neil screamed as he mindlessly charged at the guards to use his wooden bow as a bludgeon, only for the other goon to shock Neil with a taser.

"Let's avoid the public relations nightmare of killing someone in broad daylight," the goon explained to his comrade. "Leadership will know what to do with him..."

* * *

"Thank you for getting here on such short notice" Steven greeted, shaking Felix's hand as he entered the FBI agent's makeshift office.

"Don't thank me until we get our man" Felix deadpanned. "How about you walk me through what we know so far to get me up to speed?"

"As I alluded to the other morning, I was sent to the Dale department for an internal audit on potential police corruption based on a few anonymous sources and leaks" Steven began. "After two weeks investigating, I was able to uncover a few instances of street level officers being on the take with the Romano crime family. Word on the street is that Nunzio Romano runs a large drug dispensary out of Dale, but we haven't found anything concrete to prove it".

"What's changed in the last few days then?" Felix asked, making sure to stay focused on the point at hand. "I doubt you'd be calling me in to just push paperwork".

"There was a shooting at the Sunny Days hotel last night" Steven explained, gesturing towards a string and wire board that only ever seemed to be used by investigators and tin foil hat conspiracy nuts. "A blood sample from the scene matched the DNA of an officer on the force named Arturo Cortez".

"So a police officer was shot in the line of duty?" Felix reiterated, cupping his chin with his palm. "I'm assuming it's not so cut and dry?"

"Arturo was off duty" Steven answered, causing Felix's eyes to widen slightly. "Additionally, given the trajectory of the shrapnel in the back of the motel room wall and the spot on the carpet that the blood was found, it appears that Arturo was the one who broke into the room".

"Do we know anything about the other people involved?" Felix quizzed. "The might help determine a motive".

"One of the two other people in the room was Lonnie Jones, but we still don't know the identity of the girl he was with" Steven stated, with Felix pulling out a pad and taking notes. "The girl checked into the motel under a fake name and used a stolen credit card. Lonnie doesn't show up in the motel's records, but his car was abandoned outside the room after its tire was shot and his profile matches the person the hotel manager saw the woman run into in the hotel lobby".

"I know who Lonnie is," Felix interjected, earning a pleased nod from his partner. "He used to be a street level dealer. I've seen him around the Dale campus a few times over the years and he even tried to see me narcotics at one point. I haven't seen him selling recently".

"Are you a student at Dale?" Steven inquired.

"Not yet," Felix admitted. "I plan to use my Air Force grant next semester. I was still trying to adjust to normal life before. I am a TA in one of the computer labs on campus".

"Got it, that's an interesting lead" Steven affirmed. "So where things begin to get complicated is when I learned that Arturo Cortez was the force's rookie forensic investigator. Chief Green told me that Cortez was the all star of his recent police academy class and that he seemed pretty upstanding. The revelation of his involvement calls the two other major forensic investigations he has done since graduating to the force in question".

"What do we know about Cortez personality wise?" Felix inquired, continuing his notes.

"He keeps to himself, but he is wickedly smart according to Green" Steven recounted.

"He doesn't seem like the kind of person to make an obvious mistake then" Felix mused. "So what were the cases he worked the forensics for?"

"A few days ago there was a shooting at the Oasis, a night club on Main Street" Steven explained, pointing to another item on his string board. "It seems like a skirmish of some kind occurred over some kind of dispute in a VIP lounge. Two cartelman, two men who appear affiliated with the Church of Blood based on their tattoos and a few civilians were all killed. Do you know anything about this Church of Blood?"

"They're a local cult that believes some mambo jumbo about life after death" Felix answered, circling a point in his notes. "Some people appreciate the under the table services they provide in the community while others view them as a dangerous cult. I'm not personally a fan. Do we know why they were getting mixed up with the cartel?"

"Thanks to our friend Arturo potentially tampering with evidence, we don't know what transpired" Steven sighed, gesturing to another item on the board. "There was also a shooting at the old apartment complex on Amstel Road on the poorer side of Dale. It looks like some members of the cartel had broken into an empty apartment, but were shot down by an unknown party. The weird thing is that now stolen items were found on any of the corpses. Arturo likely tampered with the evidence there too, but I can't imagine him being able to remove any evidence of a robbery without him leaving a clue to his involvement.

Felix stroked his chin in thought for a moment before an idea hit him.

"Can you look up who lived in the apartments adjacent to the scene of the crime?" Felix requested.

"Let's see here…" Steven hummed, pulling open a laptop on his desk and quickly searched through his available records. "Bran Towns, Jake Hoyts, Iris McCoy… Lonnie Jones! So Lonnie Jones might be the throughline in all of this! Hang on, I have an idea".

Steven rapidly typed on his machine for a few more minutes, with Felix moving behind his desk to look over his shoulder. After another minute of searching, Steven turned back to Felix with a satisfied smile on his face.

"This is a floor plan of the apartment layout" Steven pointed. "See that air duct right there? That leads to both rooms. It's possible that those cartel men broke into the room not to steal anything, but to access whatever was in that vent".

"Want to take a look in person?" Felix asked enthusiastically…

* * *

"FBI, open up!" Steven yelled, his knuckling pounding on the door for the second time.

"Don't think anyone is home" Felix deduced. "Now, we should get a search warrant and…"

"Search warrant this!" Steven growled, his stubbornness taking over as he kicked open the door.

"Well, that's one way to do it" Felix joked nervously as he followed Steven into the room.

Sure enough, the screws to the air duct were loose and a trail of an object dragged through the dust on the vent floor could be seen inside the vent upon further inspection.

"So both Cortez and the cartel are after whatever Lonnie has" Felix deduced. "That explains the break-ins at the motel and in the other room. Is it possible Arturo is working with the cartel?"

"I wouldn't rule out the possibility" Steven muttered, pulling out his laptop and sitting at Lonnie's dilapidated kitchen table. "Is it possible Lonnie is connected to the first crime scene as well?"

"It'd be hard to track him if he was just a guest at the club" Felix admitted, taking a seat at the table with Steven.

"Wait!" Steven exclaimed, slamming fist on the table as he clicked through more files on his laptop. "The Oasis provided police investigators with a list of employees working at the club on the night of the crime. Maybe Lonnie is on the list… Wait, there he is! He was hired on as a part time bartender by Oasis a week before the incident!"

"So let me just spitball for a minute here partner" Felix begins. "Some kind of transaction goes down at the Oasis and Lonnie gets word of it because he is hired there. Given his potential cartel connections, he might have indirect knowledge of what is happening or might have been still working with the cartel at the time. He steals whatever is being exchanged and hides it in his home".

"Why would Cortez obstruct the investigation then?" Steven asks rhetorically. "Perhaps he wants the valuables for himself? If what you're saying is true, both Cortez and the cartel had a means of tracking Lonnie back to his apartment".

"That's right partner" Felix commended. "They broke into the wrong room because Lonnie hid his spoils in the air duct. That makes me think that the cartel put some kind of GPS tracker on their good as a failsafe in case the deal went south. This would also mean that Arturo is working for himself and not the cartel, if we make the likely assumption that he is behind the killings next door".

"That would explain how he tracked Lonnie to the motel then!" Steve exclaimed. "I'll ask Chief Green to put out a pair of arrest warrants. It seems we still have a lot of work to do"...

* * *

Lonnie lay on a hospital style gurney shirtless, with a thick wrapping of bandages covering the stitching used to seal his buckshot wounds. The 'doctor' told him that none of his vital organs had been hit, which was quite fortunate. Still, the doctor recommended at least a few days bed rest and would not discharge Lonnie until tomorrow. Lonnie would also need to check back in after 7-14 days to have the doctor remove the stitches. This would really throw a wrench in his plan to make off with the money.

Fortunately, Lonnie was able to quickly find a place to hide the suitcase and money he didn't need for the medical services after those two college students dropped him off here. On the verge of unconsciousness, Lonnie saw a small drainage pond across the street in a small neighborhood park. Above the drainage pond cesspool was a rusty metal grate with a piece broken off that used to allow water to drain into the pond, but now goes unused. Under the cover of darkness, Lonnie had stashed the suitcase behind that metal grate in an effort to keep it from prying eyes. Satisfied with his efforts, Lonnie closed his eyes and accepted that his body needed time to heal.

That was until a heavy metallic object fell onto the sensitive part of his chest. Jolted to awareness by the sudden pain, Lonnie quickly clasped the object and was surprised to find a flask. Even without moving the flask any closer, Lonnie could smell the honeyed scent of the cheap whiskey he'd drowned himself in many times before. Looking to the doorway of his small room, Lonnie felt his stomach sink.

"You told me I owed you a drink the next time I see you" Brenya grinned, with Gwen following closely behind her. "Now about those cases…"

* * *

That's it for this time guys. Next time we'll spend more time characterizing the Church of Blood members, find out more about Arturo, see the deal between Arturo and Manny and continue with Steven and Felix's investigation. Until next time, this is Lazersword88 signing out!


End file.
